


Birdsong

by Cucumber_McCool



Series: Birdsong [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Blindfolds, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Intimacy, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Teasing, Touch-Starved, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Virginity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 42,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22046971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cucumber_McCool/pseuds/Cucumber_McCool
Summary: You were never meant to know the touch of another. You were never meant to have any choices. It's a chance meeting when your personal sanctuary isn't your own anymore. The opportunity arises and you take it.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Series: Birdsong [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611124
Comments: 97
Kudos: 432





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a *very* long time since I've posted a fic. So, please, go easy on me. 
> 
> Also, sorry this is a million years long.

It’s a sin and you know it. You blink into existence like striking a match brings flame. The air here is thick with steam as it rolls from babbling hot springs and over the grass, through the trees that you part back the branches of. Bare feet pad over dew slicked grass, had you not been trained to be sure footed all your life this may come as an obstacle to you. Smooth silk slips down your shoulders, a robe in the deepest black, accented in swirls of golden thread. It’s tied at your waist but as you approach the waters edge your fingers pull at the sash and the fabric leaves your body, sliding down your arms and catching at your fingertips before falling to the ground. You’re left completely bare now. This is how it always has been. This was your sanctuary. You’d never had to worry about anything or anyone else before. This time it’s different. You sense it before you see it. A person, a man. Then, it catches your eye through the haze of steam, something rounded and metal. It’s resting on a rock at the water’s edge. Your fingertips press against the condensation collecting on it. Drops of water collect under your touch and trail down your palm, down your wrist, tickling as they go. You grasp the object in your hands and lift it out of the thick steam. A helmet. A Mandalorian’s helmet. Over the babbling of the spring you hear movement in the water and a gasping breath for air. Gently, you settle the helmet back down before closing your eyes. It doesn’t hurt much, it’s more uncomfortable than anything. You duck down and clear a patch of droplets off the helmet to look yourself over. The face of a bird stares back at you. It’s more of a realistic mask than a true bird’s head. Your eyes still shine out from deep set circles but the rest of your face is coated in black feathers, shifting green, purple, and gold. A beak is there in place of a nose and a mouth. You’re satisfied with the overall result, needing to be able to protect your own identity. There are creeds in place other than the Mandalorian’s that needs upholding. There is a small gust of wind that parts the fog and you can see him, a silhouette. Strong broad shoulders that he rolls, as if trying to ease up tension in his muscles which ripple down his back. You close your eyes and turn from his form, knowing you’ve seen too much as it is. Perhaps you’ll come back later. Perhaps- Something soft wraps itself around your ankle and you look down to see the sash of your robe. Had the wind brought it to you? You reach down and take it as a sign. You wrap it around your eyes, tying it around your head. This had been what you wanted. Not with a Mandalorian exactly, let alone this particular one, but with someone. Just to know what it was that you’d be missing. You walk back to the water’s edge and with a deep breath you ease in.

“You’re not alone, Mandalorian.” Your voice comes out smoother, more confident than you would have imagined but now you can’t help but think this was meant to happen. The water rushes around you. You can sense him, where he is in relation to you. You know his energy, know his hostility, his anguish, and deep below that, his empathy. You do not move further.

“If you come any closer I will kill you.” His threat is meant and you know that. There’s an underlying nervousness spreading through him.

“You can,” You say, taking more steps towards him, “But you won’t.”

“I’ve killed for far less.” His words are said through the huff of a laugh, an edge of bitterness to them. He’s lifting his arms over his head blocking his face from view as he turns to look you over. “What are you?”

“What I am doesn’t matter. This is nothing more than my own mask. You are not the only one with a creed to live by.” The beak to your mask opens but it’s your lips moving underneath.

“How do I know you can’t see through that thing?” He’s keeping his arms up as you walk closer. You stop about a foot away. He’s trembling but you can’t tell. Even though you can feel that he’s in a web of fear and anger. A dangerous place to be.

“There’s nothing I can say that would make you believe me.” You say. He reaches out slowly and waves his hand over your eyes. Then, slowly, he hovers his hand inches away from your neck. All you can hear is the flow of water. His hand trembles until finally he strikes like a viper. His hand closes around your throat. A gasp escapes your lips and your hands fly to his wrist.

“What are you?” He asks, his thumb pressing into the delicate skin below your jaw. He’s on the verge of crushing it but he’s much more precise than that. He knows the limits of the body just like you know the limits of his emotions. You know you could do any number of things to save yourself but you don’t.

“I can’t tell you.” Your voice drags through the tightness of your throat. It’s ragged like wind through a thick forest.

“How are you here? I scanned for sentient life before I landed.” He’s backing you up against a rock, pressing your body against it with just the force of his hand.

“I ca-“ You take a wheezing breath, “I can’t tell you.”

“What are you?” He asks again and you feel a coldness around the edges of your body, blackness at the corners of your eyes. Your grasp on his wrist begins to weaken. You reach with trembling hands to adjust your sash. His fingers tighten just a bit. You manage to cover your forehead and down just above your lips. The mask fades and your arms go slack. His grip eases and slowly warmth comes back to you. You gasp in air, the humidity making it an easier breath than it could be.

“What I am I can’t say. Who I am I can’t say. How I came to be,” You keep your body rested back against the rock, “I can’t.” Your voice is soft and you swallow hard, “Some things in life are a mystery, Mando.”

“What do you want from me?” He asks, if only you could see the way his eyebrows knot, the way his lips part. His face is alive with emotion, all of it never to be seen. It is still felt within you. Overwhelmingly, and most prominently, you can feel this open wound in his soul, festering, throbbing, it aches and tears away at him, bigger and bigger. One day, you know, it could consume him. It won’t and you catch a glimpse of why. Love.

“Your company. Just for a while.” His hand at your throat pulls back, hovers just over your skin. You can still feel the warmth of his hand.

“I don’t keep company.” He moves away from you but keeps his eyes trained on your form.

“A Mando without a clan?” Your breathing is coming a bit easier, breasts no longer heaving. He doesn’t answer you. “How lonely.” Your voice isn’t mocking, if anything it’s deeply soaked in sympathy. “I know all about that life.”

“What do you know?” His voice is full of doubt and you wonder if the helmet filters out all the emotion held in that voice. Has anyone else ever heard it as raw as you have?

“I’ve known three people my whole life. I’ve met others but they come and go. I’ve been taken care of my whole life. I’ve been poked, prodded, preened, weighted, measured, and compared. All by strangers. My whole life.” You sink down into the water, finding a ledge on the rock you had been pressed against. “My life was never mine and it never will be. This is and will always be part of my creed.”

“You sound privileged.” He takes in your form, the water is clear, even through the steam and bubbles, he can see you. He likes your soft lines and curves. He’s never had a type. Appreciation of the physical form in any shape and size was easy for him when he was raised the way he was. Anyone willing to bare their body to him was instantly beautiful. Their souls on the other hand, that’s what he thought he could truly fall in love with. Physicality was just that, physical. Lust was easy to deal with. Love on the other hand, he’d never felt that in any romantic capacity. He never let anyone in enough to try.

“Privileged?” You burst out laughing and Mando’s face breaks into a smile. Your laugh is like bird song to his ears. He rests back against his own rock, body still at the ready if need be. “I suppose so. I’ve never known anything but comfort my whole life. But is it a privilege to never have a choice in what you want?”

“Sometimes choice gets pushed aside for duty. Someone gave you a comfortable life for a reason. You need to honor that.” He says, you can hear him groan, you think he must have found a natural jet to rest by. “They let you free now, didn’t they?”

“Not really.” You dip your head below the water and when you come back up you’re forced to breathe through your mouth, the silk making it impossible to breathe through.

“Here.” He’s moving to you and you feel his fingertips against your cheeks.

“Wait.” Your hands go to his wrists. “You can’t see my face.”

“Just,” He pushes the sash up just to the tip of your nose, “So that you can breathe.” He stays there in front of you and you wonder why for all of a second. Your hands on his wrists, you’re keeping him in place.

“Thank you.” You let him go, feeling a loss for his warmth. You think he’s gone from you when-

“What do you mean, ‘not really’?” His voice is right in front of you, the depth of it rolls over you like thunder through the mountains. It sends shivers down your scalp and the valley of your spine. You jump just slightly.

“I ran away.” Your voice is small. “I come here sometimes, to relax, to meditate. You’re right, there aren’t any sentient beings on this planet. It’s perfect to run away to. It’s a rare occasion that I’m left alone. Once or twice a year, I’m left to meditate, to study. I found this place and I relish every chance I get to come here.”

“Then I’m intruding.” You hear him shift through the water. The thought of him leaving causes your heart to slam against your chest.

“I’ve never been alone but I’ve been lonely my whole life, Mando. Would you really deprive me of good company once I’ve finally found it?”

“I’m hardly good.” He wonders over to the edge of the pool.

“Interesting then,” You say and he stops, “Please.” He turns around and looks you over once again.

“I was choking you just a few minutes ago.” His face is incredulous.

“First time I’ve ever felt pain.”

“First time?” His eyebrows shoot up and his mouth all but gapes.

“Caused by someone else. I’ve fallen. I’ve cut myself. I’ve never been hit. Physical exams are the only time I’ve been touched. I’ve never been touched outside of that. Not a pat on the head or a stroke on the cheek. Nothing.”

“That’s what you want.” He’s sure now. Figured out your secret motive.

“No.” You turn to his voice, feel out for him, not with your hands but from within. “Well, yes.” You admit. “It was something I thought about.”

“I can’t be that for you.” His words sound final but if you could see his face, the way his eyes roam over your body, how he bites his lip after, the furrow of his brow like he’s thinking about it way too hard. The rigid way his body tenses.

“It’s forbidden.” You move towards him, the water becoming shallow, it falls down around your waist. “For me to create bonds. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the-”

“Is this your creed?” He cuts you off and you only nod.

“Yes. But, there’s a loophole.”

“I don’t like loopholes.” He reaches out and touches the sash over your eyes. “Too much room for error.” His fingers trail over the silk, there is something alluring about teaching you pleasure. “I shouldn’t.” You reach out and he pulls back. Your fingertips brush down his forearm as he moves away. It feels like fire itself burning between the two of you. Searing heat coming from your fingertips and he shivers at the glancing touch of it.

“I can’t love. I’ll never love. But I want to know what I’ll be giving up.” There’s slight hesitation now as you reach for him. Your hands hover over his chest. “A life time never to be touched, never to form bonds. I can never have a child. I’ll never know anything other than three, eventually two people for the rest of my life.” There’s a long pause and your hands shake, nerves finally getting the better of you. There’s a deep breath from him as he steps forward. The sudden connection send shivers through you both and you smile as your fingers find hardened muscle and hair. Your fingers run over his chest, collecting condensation as they roam. The droplets pool and drip down his toned stomach. There’s smooth raised bumps that your shaking hands trail over. “What-“

“Scars.” His voice comes out as a soft sigh.

“You have so many.” You could feel them all, scattered across his body like stars in the sky. Some shooting and tailed, others dotted. “I thought your armor protected you?”

“From most things.” He says. You trail your hands up, over his collarbone, still just touching with fingertips. You’re too scared to make full contact just yet. You skim over the curve of it and up his neck, fingers finding the soft waves at the nape of it.

“It doesn’t protect where it matters.” Your fingers roam up his jaw, fanning out over his cheekbones. You like the way his stubble over his chin prickled at your fingertips. You run a thumb over his bottom lip. That too is rough, chapped.

“What do you mean?” He askes. His eyes fall shut as he takes the pad of your thumb between his teeth. It’s the softest of bites, his tongue sliding over it after. You shudder a breath and his hands finally move, finally slip around your waist and glide up your back. His hands are rough, calloused palms and fingers. He presses them firmly to your skin. He pulls you closer and your breath hitches. It’s instinct, you think, how your legs part when you feel him pressing against your thigh.

“You’re wounded where no one can see.” Your lips are pressed to the crook of his neck as you speak. He smells like coolant, mechanical and sweet, blaster smoke, sharp and metallic, leather, earthy and warm. There’s something else, something uniquely him. Somehow, it reminds you of long days in the sun.

“If we’re going to do this. I have two requests.” He breathes deep, you can hear and feel the pull of his breath in your ear and it shoots a shiver up your spine, arching, your hips grind into his. He lets out a soft groan and you respond with a small noise yourself. “First,” His hands slide down your back, cupping your ass on their way down, “you don’t try to read into my personal history. Second,” His hands trail farther until he’s at the backs of your thighs. In one swift motion he has your legs up around his waist, “there’s going to be passion. Without passion, there’s no point.”

“I’ll try.” You say, closing that particular part of you off. You were now completely in the dark. Before, you could almost predict what he was going to do based off of feelings. Now, you were completely in his hands. “I have just one question though.” You say and he hums in response. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Maybe it’s a first for me too.” He says, bringing you over to the edge of the water, settling you down before pulling himself up.

“Are you a virgin too?” You ask as he effortlessly pulls you to him. His hand is wrapped around your wrist, rubbing his thumb over the delicate skin there.

“Far from it.” He’s looking you over, thinking of the best plan of action. “If I say this. You have to promise not to laugh.”

“I don’t think I have much room to laugh.” 

“I’ve never removed my helmet during.” He had asked you not to laugh and you tried your best not to. The thought of the Mandalorian naked save for his helmet, left you with quite the image. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’ve never been kissed?” You tilt your head, a smile still spread across your face.

“Neither have you.” He points out and you pull your wrist from his hand and move it to cup his jaw. He’s trembling as he presses his cheek into your hand and you think it odd that he’s more afraid than you are. Your fingertips feel the flutter of his lashes against them as he closes his eyes. You lean in, feel the ghost of his warm breath over your lips.

“Then lets fix that first.” Your words flicker over his lips like a flame dancing in the dark. You don’t know when you took the lead or how, just that he’s melted into you. The helmet, your certain, is a security blanket. Without it, he’s just a man. You’re no more than a hair’s breadth away from his lips when you feel his nose press into your cheek. You smile before finally, your lips meet. You like the roughness of him, the way his lips move against yours. It’s instinct, it’s natural. His hand slips around to your back, pulls you in at the shoulder. It’s a tilt of the head that causes a clash of teeth. You pull back and laugh just a bit. He’s flushing and you’ll never know. “Sorry.” You whisper but he’s already over it. His lips are back to yours. Slower this time, he parts his lips, drags his tongue over your lower lip. He’s pushing you down and you lay back for him. Cool wet grass presses into your back. It’s long and just the slightest bit itchy. You’d care if it weren’t for the Mando’s tongue entering your mouth. He’s learned from the clash of teeth, takes it slow, doesn’t go all in. Instead he’s testing, tasting. It’s better this way. The soft touches drive you mad. He’s leaning on one arm, hand cradling your head. His free hand is busy drawing patterns on your skin, the harsh skin of his fingertips drawing swirls over your stomach and up your chest. You sigh into his mouth and his leaves you, goes to your neck. You toss your head to the side, hands flying to his back, nails digging into damp skin. He bucks against your hips that you’ve gladly opened for him. His teeth dig into the delicate flesh there, warm tongue offering an apology after. His fingertips continue to draw lazy circles, barely there touches circle around your breasts. You whine, wanting full contact. Your hips buck again and his hand comes down on your hip, pushing it down against the soft earth. It’s a whisper of a kiss he leaves on your lips before he’s pulling away from you. He’s grabbing your wrists and linking them together, pressing them above your head.

“Stay.” He’s commanding and you dare not disobey. It isn’t him that touches you. Instead, a single blade of grass. He trails it down your wrist, over your forearm and to the inner curve of your elbow. Gooseflesh and tingles erupt over your skin as he continues his trail down. You’re squirming under him and his hand at your hip presses you down again. The blade of grass trails over your bicep, collarbone, up your neck, then down, between your breasts, down to your belly button, over your pelvic tracks. You moan, hands shooting out for him but he’s quicker. He grabs your wrists and pushes them down above your head again. “Stay.”

“Mando.” You whine, feeling helpless. He ignores you, continues his attack on your body. The blade swirls around your breasts, over your nipples. You feel him pressing urgently into your thigh as simultaneously two things happen. Your nipples bud up, forming your breasts perfectly round, and between your legs you’ve suddenly started to seep down yourself. You’ve never known a want, no, a need more than this. More than needing him. You’re hot, beyond that, molten, between your legs. You start regretting ever asking for this. The pleasure starts turning into the slightest hint of pain when suddenly his mouth is on your breast, taking in the hardened bud. It’s tongue and teeth and you sigh in the slightest bit of relief. The blade of grass is trailing over your thighs, causing them to twitch. He finally ditches it and presses a palm above your mound, rubbing soft circles, it’s a tease. More of one, anyway. It relieves some pressure between your legs but it seems more like a sample of what’s to come. He switches breasts, giving equal attention to the other before nipping his way down, down. Your hands fly to his hair and tug ever so gently.

“Want me to stop?” He asks, his voice is a purring rumble over your skin.

“No! Stars no!” You breathe and he dips his head back down, kissing up your thighs, softly at first, then hungry. He finds the salt of your skin intoxicating. It’s another first for him, the taste of another. Your hips buck up against him, body trembling. He knows all the right places to touch, now he was finally going to know the taste and feel of them. A lick up your pelvic tracks, a kiss over your mound, and then. “Oh, stars, yes.” Your head is spinning. His tongue is between your legs, it swirls and flicks and you’re gasping for air. A lifetime without this would have been miserable. Only, the realization that it will, even after this, be a lifetime without it, hits you. You know now, at least you think, this is all there is that you’d be missing out on. It’s when the pad of his middle finger is circling your entrance do you realize that there is still more to come. His head nuzzles down into you before he pops up, his breath is fanning over your stomach and you shiver.

“Is this ok?” He asks, pressing the pad of his finger just slightly.

“Yes, please.” You push at his head to go back down and if only you could see the smile on his face, the way his eyes light up at the way he’s made you a mess under him. He’s proud of what he’s seemed to pick up quickly. His mouth is back on you, his tongue swirling around your bundle of nerves. His middle finger circles, collecting your slick before pressing in. It’s a rocking motion, easing in and out. You’re the tightest he’s ever felt before and it causes him to groan against you. You on the other hand gasp at the sensation, his finger is nice and thick and that alone feels amazing. He curls his finger up and you just about loose it. He’s holding your hips down again, finger still rocking in and out of you until he adds another, this time his ring finger. The stretch isn’t so bad, he’s taken precautions, going slow and making sure you were more than ready for his fingers. There’s a heat that’s slowly building. It started in your core and made it’s way up, tightening in your chest. The feeling is strange to you, intense and foreign. You’d never been allowed to feel something so strong. This, whatever it is, that he’s done to you, feels like the ocean. Like the tide on the beach pulling you in. You feel yourself being dragged under, allowing yourself to be sucked into the current. Your thighs squeeze around his head and he lets go of your hips, allowing you to rock up against his mouth. You’re on the crest of a wave, your incessantly moaning out between pants.

“Mando!” You’re crying out the only name you have for him, the only name he’d let anyone call him. The wave crashes and your body flutters under him. He doesn’t stop, actually increases his pace, tongue relentless against you as you ride out your climax. “Stars!” Your voice cracks and you’re gasping for breath. “Too much! I can’t! I can’t take it!” You’re tugging at his hair and he finally pulls away, starts kissing at your thighs, can’t help himself. He loves it, loves the taste, loves the softness and the warmth. It’s two words, two that the both of you can’t shake. Warm. Soft. He’s reminding himself that this isn’t all about him. He’s a starving man, finally been given food. But this isn’t about him. He reluctantly pulls away and comes up to rest down next to you. You’re both breathing heavy.

“That,” He takes a deep breath, “is what you’ll be missing.”

“There’s still more, isn’t there?” You ask and he looks at you, eyebrows raised.

“Do you want that?” He asks and you reach for him, palm running down over his chest and stomach, following the small trail of hair over his stomach and finally-

“Oh.” It’s bigger than you thought. Then again, you weren’t sure what you were expecting. You knew of the male body but you never knew it could be so- “It’s big.” Finger tips barely just meet around it thick. Use both hands and then a bit long. 

“You sure you want that?” He asks and you swallow hard.

“I want it all.”

“It’ll hurt.” He’s rolling back over you, “At first at least.”

“Please. I want to.” Your words are all he needs. He kisses you, cupping your cheek as he reaches between your legs. One finger, then two. He spreads them apart, stretching you a little at a time. He’s gathering up all that he can of your slick as he goes. He runs it over himself, swirling at the tip to spread his precum over himself. He positions himself at your entrance, pulling away from your mouth and resting his forehead against yours.

“Ready?”

“Yes.” He eases himself in, much like one does a hot bath. He dips in and you gasp, the tip alone was enough. He rocks, and inch by inch, he makes his way in. It does hurt, just a bit. He’d done well to prepare you. It isn’t more than a small sting. You wrap your arms around him, one hand at the nape of his neck, the other at the base of his spine. Tears pool behind the sash over your eyes. It isn’t voluntary. It just happens. Mando might never have known if it weren’t for the small sob you let slip from your lips.

“You’re crying.” He immediately starts to pull away but you’re quick to wrap a leg around his hips.

“I’m fine. It’s just a lot.” It was, and there was no denying that.

“I don’t want-“

“I do. I want this.” You rock your hips up against him. “It’s just a lot to let go of.” It’s a sin and you both want it. “But I want this.” You rock up against him and with little hesitation he’s moving again. It takes a moment and with some gentle coaxing from him you relax into him. He’s giving you gentle encouragement each time you rock your hips up, a groan, a bite, even at one point a little moan in the curve of your neck. He’s filling you up perfect and a little thought in the back of your head slips through. You’re custom fit just for him now, this stranger that you’ll never see again. He’s the only one that’ll ever have you and the same thought crosses his own mind, makes him thrust harder. You cry out from the shock of pain through the mounting pleasure. The tightness is screwing with his brain. He’s caught between wanting to be good to you and wanting to satisfy his own pleasure. It’s a battle of wills for him. He tries to ease up, grabs at your hips, pushes you down in the grass. His forehead slumps to your chest. He’s shaking from the effort, starts up his pace again. You wriggle under him, needing the freedom to move against him.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers into your skin, presses kisses to it. His hand trembles down between your legs, his thumb rubbing circles where you want it most. His pace quickens, as he sits up, looks down at you. You’re grabbing at what you can find, his wrists, his thighs. You dig your nails in, feel bad about the pain you’re probably causing, but he’s doing the same to you. He’s pounding into you, causing small waves of pain. He’s trying so hard to be careful not to go too far. Though, he knows he’s on the brink of taking you how he wants, throwing aside all other cares. He would if you were any other person, maybe Xi’an, the Twi’lek he’d been running around with in his crew. He’d take her his own way without a care. You, there was something about you that he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. You had bared yourself to him deeper than just your body. You buck under him, pulling him out of his train of thought. The combination of his thumb and his thickness, the angle he has you at. It’s enough. For the second time you feel it, the crash, the ripple of heat washing over you. It was enough for him, the way you writhe under him, the way your walls flutter around him. He mumbles something you thought was a profanity before quickly pulling away from you. It isn’t his intent, he tries to aim away but you feel it across your thigh, hot and wet. “Sorry.” He breathes before falling next to you again, still stroking himself slowly, coming down off his high.

“It’s ok.” You wipe at it, feel it over your fingers, the warmth of it gone. You wonder. You bring your hand up and lick it off your fingers. It’s salty and thick and somehow you don’t mind it at all. You can hear the Mandalorian next to you mumbling that same word. “I’ve never heard that word before.”

“Kriff? It’s a curse. It’s just- You didn’t have to do that. It was sexy though.”

“Never been called that before.” You bring yourself up on your elbows, realizing how shaky your body is. You legs feel wobbly and you take in a hissing breath when it finally strikes you how sore you are.

“Here.” He’s gone from you and you can hear the tear of fabric. Before long he’s back and easing your legs apart. “You are by the way,” He says. You can feel a warm damp cloth between your legs, “Sexy.” He’s ever so gently cleaning you up. “How old are you anyway?”

“Twenty-three.” You say and he tosses away the rag. He's easing back down next to you, resting on his elbow. 

“You’re still so young.” He whispers and you lay back down, reach out for him. He settles his cheek into your hand.

“So are you.” You say and you feel him shake his head in your palm, it feels more like nuzzling to you and you smile. The Empire had fallen only a few months ago. It caused a ripple through the galaxy that caused many to change their way of life. “You still have time, Mando.”

“Not with the way I live.” He turns his head into your palm, presses his lips against the center of it. He doesn’t want to have time. There’s that festering wound again. You feel his ache, pulling through your fingers, spreading through your own being.

“Your wound will heal yet.” You whisper and he nuzzles his forehead against your palm.

“I told you. Don’t.” He wants to move away from you. The deed has been done, after all. He can’t though, relishing in what he never gets. He’s trying to ring every last drop out of this encounter.

“It’ll be love, Mando.” You say and he laughs, the richness of it meets your ears and you think it sounds better than birdsong.

“Love.” He’s still laughing, presses his forehead to your shoulder.

“Of family. Selfless and pure.” You say, letting yourself be wrapped into his arms.

“Sure.” He breathes against you and you wrap your arms around him, cradle him against your body. You rest there, enjoying the sounds of the spring and the way his weight rests over you, heavy and secure. It’s an odd knowledge. The man in your arms you know is a killer. He’s self admittedly not a good man. You lift your head and kiss over his hair. Yet, you could sense how good his heart was. Beyond that you thought he was so fragile. You marvel at the paradox of it all. Feeling secure in a killer’s arms, feeling the goodness in a bad man, and feeling as though you were holding the most fragile hardened man. 

“I have to go.” You say after some time. He pulls from your warmth, stopping just for a second. You can feel him, his face is hovering over yours. You don’t hesitate like he does. You lean up and connect your lips. It starts soft, fluttering and light. Turns heavy, needy, hands gripping at each other, pulling close, desperate. It’s a clash of tongues and gasps for air. Then, sorrow. You’re not sure if its your own emotion or if its coming from him. You think perhaps both. The kiss turns tender and his hands relax, thumb strokes your cheek. The two of you know that you’ll never have this again. The taste or feel of another’s lips against your own. It’s a beautiful thing. One you both have to say goodbye to. You pull back first, hesitating, then, just one more. A soft one that he returns, the two of you hold it, just for a few seconds, and then he’s gone. He’s pulled away from you completely, moving to dry off and get his armor on. You just sit and wait until finally you feel the leather of his gloved hand press to your shoulder. You reach out and he helps you up. “I want to give you this.” You say, your fingers are pulling at the sash and he’s quick to grab your wrists.

“Don’t.” His voice sounds deeper, the edge of technology etched into it. You still think it’s the nicest voice you’ve ever heard despite it.

“I want to. I can’t, after today, ever leave again. If you’ve found this place then it’s no longer safe.” There’s a silence. He thinks maybe it’s the knowledge that he’d never see you again. Of course there had been a fleeting moment where he thought, by chance, he could come here again and see you. “Will you promise me, you’ll never speak of me again?” You ask and his index fingers stroke over your wrists. It’s a promise he thinks he can keep, though it pains him. He thinks if he doesn’t recant it, it’ll get lost in his memories and you’ll become nothing but a ghost.

“I promise.” He says, holding your wrists still as you remove the silk from your face. You blink up at him, eyes adjusting to the light. He touches over your eyebrows and cheeks, over your nose. He gazes into your eyes, thinking they’re more beautiful than starlight. You. You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever beheld. He wishes he can see you unfiltered. Its your turn to grab his wrists, push them down.

“Remember me.” You say as you slip the fabric into his hands. “I’ll always remember you.” You reach up and press your hand to the back of his helmet. His head falls forward and you press your forehead to his, eyes shutting tight. You don’t want to cry. You won’t allow yourself until you’re gone. You turn from him, grab up your robe and slip it around yourself. You’re gone, like a flame snuffed out. Only, you leave no trail of smoke, just lingering emotions for him to digest. He takes the sash and tucks it under his armor around his neck. It smells of your hair and he knows he’ll be sad for the day that smell goes away. 

He wears it on bad days, just to remind himself of your softness. He wears it to remind himself of a fleeting moment in time where he was allowed something nice. He rarely indulges in being good to himself, but when he thinks of you... It’s a sin to him and he doesn’t care.


	2. Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your future isn't what you thought it would be. How does one survive without any life skills and what does one do with life when they find that they weren't the one?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief description of violence and blood in this chapter.
> 
> It's nothing you wouldn't see within universe, though.

They didn’t think of the repercussions. They didn’t think that when you give a being one sole purpose in life, and then pull that purpose away, that it would have any ill effect. Yet here you were jumping from planet to planet, trying to find a place in life, only finding jail cells. You had skipped out on bail multiple times. You’d wreaked havoc wherever you went. You told fortunes and healed the wounded. You did it for a price. When those who were in charge demanded a cut of your money, you refused. You never wanted to live your life by anyone’s rules but your own. You’d do what you had to now to keep what freedom you had.

\----

You stood out on a hill top, a clear-cut pathway parted back the forest to a marble ledge. Someone at some point recognized the beauty of this outlook and created a gorgeous marble railing to match the view below. The view below was that of the city, tucked deep into a mountain range. You watched as the sun set over the glittering green trees, their leafs damp from a flash of rain.

“Every night at the same exact time,” You take in a shuddered breath as the wind washes over you. It kicks up the gown you’re wearing. It’s yards of fabric, way off the shoulders that flows and swirls around your body like water cascading over a rock face. The gossamer fabric from your gown leaves little to the imagination, even with layers upon layers of it. He can see your silhouette through it. You can feel his eyes burning into your back, “the city lights up. All at once.” There’s the faintest of glows from candles in windows down below. Any second now. “Tonight is special. Tonight is their centennial of their system’s creation.” He’s approaching slowly now. “I knew it would be you. I saw you coming.” He’s behind you now. You lean down and rest your forearms over the railing.

“A woman with the face of a black bird,” He says. He comes to stand by your side, “Is reading fortunes. She can vanish in an instant.” You didn’t have your mask up, but you did have feathers tucked in your hair, almost as a crown.

“Did you want it to be me?” You ask, straightening up and finally turning to him. It’s almost blinding, how the lights turn on. There are more than you had seen before, carnival lights and neon signs. There’s a blast of fireworks so close you feel as though they’d touch you. The ash of them rains down around the two of you, streaking both of you with soft black soot. The city is bright and cheerful and the whole of it seems to beam with excitement. It bleeds out it’s light through the smoke of the fireworks, coloring the world around you in deep blues, purples, and pinks. You’re grateful for the thunder of the fireworks, it covers up the heavy beat of your heart that you were more than certain he could hear if it weren’t for them. Neither of you bother with the grandeur of it all. Instead, you’re much more interested in looking at each other. He thinks that while the light can wash away the stars from the sky it could never wash away the stars from your eyes.

“No.” He breathes, reaches out for you, leather over supple skin. He cups your cheek and brushes soot away from it with his thumb.

“I wanted it to be you.” You say as you press into the leather, breathe him in at his wrist. It’s all the same as it was before. Coolant, blaster smoke, and leather. You close your eyes and reach out, feel over the beskar. It’s cold and smooth over your fingertips. He’s much more complete than he was when you last saw him. Your fingers trail down over his chest and sides. His arm circles around you. You like the contrast of silk over metal pressing against your breasts.

“Why?” He asks, taking in your face. He’s cradling your head, pressing his thumb under your jaw. You tip your head back, let him have a good look down your neck and over your chest. Your thigh is between his legs, pressing against him softly. You roll your head back down, look up at him through your lashes.

“Because a girl’s got to eat and I knew you’d be easy.”

“What?” He sounds breathless as you step back. In hand you have his money pouch from off his belt and his blaster from off his hip. With that you vanish.

You’re weak. You’d been draining your energy all day, telling fortunes, healing who you could. You only get a few yards away. You’re running as fast as you can. It’s hard when your gown is down to your feet and your hands are full with what you’ve stolen. You keep tripping up here and there. The dress was a good idea at the time. It was an easy way to distract him. It didn’t do much now for your escape. You hear him behind you, twigs breaking under his boots. There’s a whirring noise and suddenly you’re being pulled back at the wrist by his grappling hook. Your body jerks back, your shoulder and elbow feel as though they’d almost come apart at the socket. You’re in his arms again and before you can so much as register the pain the wire left on your wrist or even gasp in a breath of air, he’s got cuffs on you.

“That was a cute trick.” He says, pushing you away so that he can kneel down. He’s grabbing up his blaster and pouch that you’d dropped.

“It was worth a try.” You say, looking over his form in front of you. You’re rolling your shoulder and shaking out your arm as if to help ease the pain. He stays kneeling in front of you, watching you work out your arm. He reaches up for your wrist. It aches where the wire pulled you to him. You think you’ve probably got a wire burn under the cuffs.

“Did I hurt you?” His fingertips edge under the rim of the cuff and try to stroke over your wrist where the wire wrapped. You gaze down at him, wonder how he can still be so gentle when you tried to betray him.

“A little,” You take in a deep breath and close your eyes, “Nothing I can’t fix.” The pain is gone and he’s tilting his head up at you, raising to his feet.

“Did you run away again?” He asks, it had been about six years since you’d last ran away. Six years since you’d last seen him. He wanted to ask many things but settled on just one.

“I couldn’t stay there anymore.”

“What happened?” He’s hesitant to touch you again. He wants to touch over your exposed collar bones, see you shiver under him. His hand lifts, hovers, then drops to the cuffs. He hooks his fingers over the connecting piece and starts to walk off, towing you behind him.

“I wasn’t the _one_.” You didn’t expect to sound as bitter as you did. Sure, it had hurt but you were much happier now. Nothing could ever beat the feeling of unlimited choices. “So, I was put into rotation as something else.”

“What else?” He asks and you take a deep breath.

“It’s a long story.” You mumble and he glances back at you.

“We’ve got time.” He says and you watch as he turns away, the glow of the moon through the trees reflecting off his helmet.

“That may be true but lets just say I didn’t make the cut. There were others that I didn’t know about. They were better than me.”

“Pretty vague.”

“I guess. But, since I wasn’t the one, they didn’t need me. I was told I was to go into rotation as,” You pause to think it over, “something else. Like a caretaker or sorts. I’d hold my vow of chastity and raise and train new children. I’d be one in a long line of caretakers until centuries from now when someone else is needed.”

“So, because of that you ran?” He asks, seems to pick up his pace a bit.

“Yes.” You’re able to keep up with his long strides. “They won’t come for me this time. I’m no longer special.”

“Special.” He glances back at you. “You’re one of the most unique creatures I’ve ever met.”

“You’ve met me twice.” The compliment doesn't miss you but you try not to dwell on it for long. You don't want to let yourself believe there's real meaning behind it.

“Doesn’t change my opinion.” He says, his voice is flat like it’s a matter of fact.

“Yeah, well, I grew up with extraordinary. You and majority of this galaxy would think that any little thing I can do is special.” You huff and he laughs, a crackle of it slipping through the modulator of his helmet. “What?”

“You’re so unique I wasn’t even looking for you and I found you.” He says and you can feel your cheeks heat up just slightly.

“I was trying my best to lay low.” You whisper.

“You need to learn a thing or two about laying low.” He’s got an edge of a laugh to his voice and despite how nice it is you have to roll your eyes.

“Must have missed that lesson between the ‘don’t form bonds’ class and the ‘stay here forever and rot away’ class.”

“That bad?”

“The only time I wasn’t lonely was when-“ You thought of him, but you’d never say that.

“When?” His voice is soft and you’d like to pretend that maybe it’s hopeful. You'd like to, but don't. You’re sure that it’s only you that’s the hopeful one anyway.

“When I would meditate. Look within myself and find comfort there.” It’s a lie and you’re not sure he buys it but there’s a string of silence being pulled between you now. It’s quite a few minutes before you muster up the nerve to speak again. “I see you’ve got a full suit of beskar.” There’s nothing but the crack of twigs and leaves underfoot. “There’s something else, too.”

“Love of family?” He’s stopping, ushering you down on a log so that you can rest.

“I told you so.” You say, looking up at him. You’ve got a smug smirk across your face.

“Yeah,” He’s tilting his head down at you, “That’s not normal, you know.” He settles down next to you. “Telling the future is something pretty extraordinary to me.”

“You should see all the things I’ve seen. I did, for a time, think I was special. After realizing I wasn’t, and seeing what I was up against, well,” You rested your elbows down on your thighs, “I actually don’t have a fraction of what others possess. I feel like most of what I can do are just party tricks of sorts.” There was a nice sort of calm, a release in being able to talk about how you felt. You thought the man next to you could be making faces or thinking about his next mark. You’d never know if he was truly listening, but it still felt good to tell someone. “When you were growing up and being taught all that you were,” You say and he tilts his head at you, “I’m sure you compared yourself to other younglings.”

“I did.” He says and you look him over, wishing you could see behind the mask, know exactly how his eyes look when they gaze at you.

“I’m sure you were never the inadequate one in class.” You say and he laughs. You missed that noise and it felt good to hear it after all these years of trying to reconstruct it in your head.

“Oh, Mando.” The voice coming through the trees is almost sing-song, light and airy and punctuated with a giggle. The words cause the two of you to jump. It’s a prickle over your skin and your heart leaps as your body tenses. If it weren’t for the Mandalorian at your side your mind would be telling you 'flight'. It’s because of him your mind was screaming 'Fight!'.

“Shit.” He’s standing up, blaster already drawn.

“There’s three of them.” You say, sensing out around you. The beings you sense are hostile and ready to go.

“You don’t need to tell me. I can see them.” He’s tracking their heat signatures through his visor.

“Take my cuffs off.” You bolt up beside him.

“No.” He shoves you back down. He’s glancing around for some brush to hide you under.

“I can fight. Take the cuffs off.” You’re glaring at him, raising your wrists to him.

“I can take them.”

“All three of them? At once?” You’re standing again, holding out your wrists for him. He sighs deeply and hits a button on his wrist and the cuffs fall off of you. “I’ll get these two.” You’re already starting off.

“What? No! We stick together!” He tries to reach out for you but you’re already out of his grasp.

“Well, well, well,” This voice is different, deeper and dripping with skeeze and you turn to the direction it came from. Out from the thick line of trees steps a man, bald and average looking in almost every sense of the word. He’s got a blaster in each hand and another looming up from a pack on his back, “Having a little late-night rendezvous, are we Mando?” From beside him comes another being. They’re large, very large, red with big horns.

“I don’t want to hurt a little lady.” The Devaronian’s voice is deep and intimidating. Actually, everything about him is intimidating. If it weren’t for your lifetime of training to relinquish your fears you’d probably be scared shitless. He doesn’t have a blaster but with the mountain of muscle that he is, he doesn’t need one.

“She ain’t a lady, Burg. She’s a whore.” The bald man is waving his blaster around nonchalantly.

“I’m not a whore, asshole.” You say through gritted teeth.

“Sure, tell that to me when I can’t see your tits.” He shouts back. You silently curse yourself. You hadn’t seen this when you saw Mando coming for you. The surprise left you angry at yourself for how unprepared you had been.

“Oh, please, Mayfeld, give my Mando some taste. She’s too vanilla. Perhaps she’s more of a human sacrifice for his war gods.” A Twi’lek emerges next, she’s got her eyes trained on Mando. “You guys still worship those, don’t you?”

“Jealousy doesn’t become you, Xi’an.” Mayfeld calls over his shoulder to her. You glance back at Mando and he seems to be squaring up as he watches Xi’an stalk her way towards him.

“I’ve been waiting for this rematch.” She purrs, she’s twirling a knife between her fingers. “Maybe once I’ve got you pinned down, Mando, I’ll make you watch as I slice up your lady.” She glances at you and gives a small hiss. It’s easy for you, just a small push outwards sends her knife flying out of her hand and into a tree. “What the-“

Before she can finish Mando is already on her. You don’t have time to watch. Mayfeld is shooting at you and you’re quick to disappear. You pop up beside him, push outwards and send him flying into a tree. He’s out like a light and you wonder how he thought he was a threat to begin with. Burg takes a second but once he realizes where you’ve gone, he’s charging. You would teleport again, if you had the strength. Instead, you’re quick to grab one of Mayfeld’s blasters. You know you don’t have much of an aim but you try anyway. You shoot for the tree tops. It’s sloppy but it gets the job done. The tree is crumbling and you pull it towards yourself, over the charging Devaronian’s head. The heft of the tree hitting the ground causes you to lose your footing. You fall back. Exasperated, you lay there for a second. It’s when you glance up that you see Xi’an and Mando fighting. Or is it dancing? The two of them seem to be able to predict each other’s moves. Attack, counter, attack, parry.

“Damn it, Mando! Hurry up!” You go to stand yourself up but you see a flash of red out of the corner of your eye. By the time you notice it, it’s too late. Burg has you slammed up against a tree by your throat. All you can do is squeak. Your lungs loose breath and you gasp at air that won’t come. Your hands fly to his wrists. You try pushing outward but just can’t. Instead, you reach a trembling hand down, through a slit in the fabric of your gown. The exposure of your thigh eases his grip around your throat just slightly as his free hand comes to roam up your thigh. The small bit of breath is enough for you to manage. You kick your leg up and push your foot against his throat. The fabric around your hip falls away exposing a holster of your own. Only, it’s no blaster, but a hilt. In one quick motion you grab it and a bright green light comes out.

“Glow stick?” It’s all he can say before you’re cutting off his arm at the elbow. He drops back with a scream. You fall to your feet, the grip of his hand still around your throat.

“Not a glowstick.” You say as you yank his arm off your neck. With as much strength as you can muster you use the lopped off arm to smack him over the head. He knocks out cold. You toss his arm back to him and turn to Mando. “Are you two done yet?”

“Keep out of this!” Xi’an hisses and tosses a knife your way. You lift a hand and send it flying back to her. It’s just her luck that you get her in the eye. She screeches out, falling back instantly. Mando’s head jerks back to you. You’re there in a pile of destruction. Your nose is bleeding down your face and your gown torn to shreds. There in your hand is your saber, still glowing. You take a deep breath, lean back against the tree.

“Can we go now?” You ask and if you could only see under his helmet, the way his mouth hangs open at the sight of you. He’s been impressed by many a good fighter, but never one that used sorcery to fight. Then again he’s never had the opportunity to bear witness to it. He doesn’t say anything. Only gathers himself up as quick as he can before he’s running to you.

“Follow me.” He says and you do. You sheath your saber and slip it back into the holder at your hip. You gather up your skirts and run with him through the trees. You sense it before you see it. There’s something in the distance. The light from the ship spills out into the darkness of the forest. The brush here is thicker, backlit by the light of the ship. The dark clawed fingers of the trees scratch at you as you run through them. Little nicks and slits raising up over your skin. You try to ignore it. You want to get away from the mess you left behind. It won’t be long before the crew of people are up and on the run again. They’d be foolish to come after you right away but you thought that’s probably what they were anyway. Fools. There was still this sense you had that something was pulling you to the ship. It was like a beacon. The two of you slow to a walk as you break into the clearing. You’re both panting heavily and when you look Mando over you notice how he’s limping, how he’s got a hand pressed to something gleaming at his side. The way it juts out you know it isn’t armor.

“Mando!” You rush to his side, can feel the handle of it. One of Xi’an’s knives and judging by the angle it was up under his rib.

“Just get me on the ship. I can deal with it.” He says but you knew with how large the handle was, it wasn’t a small knife and it wouldn’t be a shallow cut. The wane of adrenaline was starting to make him weak too, causing slump over a bit.

“I can heal you,” You say, propping him up as the two of you walked to the ship, “It won’t hurt and it won’t leave a scar.”

“No,” He’s pushing you away as soon as you settle him down in a booth at what you thought was his kitchen table, “Get me my medical kit.” He’s pointing behind you but you don’t care to look. You can see a red droplet hanging off the bottom of his helmet.

“Damn it, Mando.” You’re reaching down for the knife but he’s quick to grab your arms.

“Would you just do what I say?” He’s swaying just slightly.

“No.” You try to pull from his grasp but his hands won’t let go, “Fine.” You wrap your hands around his arms and bring your leg up to kick off the bench he’s settled on. The force of your push is enough to send you falling back and to pull him on top. You brace yourself as your back hits over the cold metal of the floor. “If you want to be difficult.” You say and his breath hitches in surprise and you push your hips off the ground to flip over on top of him. He groans from the impact of his weakened body being flung down. You’ve got him pinned between your legs and in that moment he doesn’t care to fight anymore. You make quick work of pulling the knife out. His hands fly to your thighs. His gloves fingers dig deep into the soft flesh of them. It hurts just slightly but you know he needs something to help with the pain. You do your best to ignore it and press your hands to the wound. Blood is pouring out and you try not to think of the slick warmth of his life spilling out over your fingers. Instead, you close your eyes and concentrate. His breathing is ragged and uneven, but after a minute it starts to get steady again. You look down between the two of you and gather up your skirts to wipe away the blood from the area. You’re not surprised to find that it’s healed perfectly.

“Thank you.” His head is lifted, looking at your handywork before it falls back against the floor with a thunk. You fall forward, your arms coming out to catch you over his chest. Knowing that he was safe was enough for your body to finally give out on you. “Are you ok?” He’s sitting up, gathering you up in his arms. Behind his helmet he’s looking you over, brows furrowed and eyes so deeply concerned.

“I’m fine.” You say, head falling down to his shoulder. “I just need to rest.” You feel it again, a bright presence. You lift your head slightly, cheek pressing against the cold beskar of his pauldron. You open your eyes and see a little green figure. He’s staring up at you with big brown eyes, his tiny fingers curling into his thick robe, long pointed ears drooping down off the back of his head.

“It’s a baby.” Is all you manage to say before you pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the people who encouraged me to continue this! I hope you all like it!


	3. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mando makes you an offer, one you had wanted, but it just isn't right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is going up later than I thought it would. It's been a really busy day.

Waking up anywhere these days was disorienting. You wake up with a start, hands flying out and smacking against solid walls on both sides of you. You had been slipped into a rugged and scrappy bunk with barely enough room for one and shrouded in complete darkness. There’s nothing but the faint glow of little buttons to the side of you. The metallic smell of blood is thick in the tight space around you which is enough to set you on edge. It’s panic for all of a second before you close your eyes and settle yourself down. Where were you last? Straddling Mando’s lap. Where could you be now? You feel out around yourself, two familiar energies meet you. Just two. You reach out and try a few buttons before you get the right one. The bunk door ascends quick and smooth causing golden light spill into your little cubby, a burst of fresh air with it. Looking out into the belly of the ship you see the landing ramp is open. There’s no one around you and you slide out of the bunk, the padded rollers making it easy for you. You glance back at the cramped space. You can feel the ache of your muscles from the hard military standard issue sleep space. You start to wonder why he never upgraded to a better bed or at least tried to pad it up nicer until you realize you’re still in your gown. It’s horribly tattered and torn. Looking down at yourself you see you’re covered in little scratches from running through the woods. You feel over your face and hair, can tell that it’s a complete mess and while your face felt relatively clean you can feel the crust of blood still around your nostrils.

A baby giggle throws you out of your examination of yourself. A baby. You remember him vaguely and you can feel how strong he is, pulling you out, out of the ship. Bare feet pad over the metal floor and down the hatch ramp. It’s quite a scene. The day is on the brink of the golden hour and the sun washes over a field in front of you. Knee high grass, thin and sun burnt to resemble that of hay sways in the breeze. A sweet vanilla scent is blooming through the air from it. You find yourself smiling. You hear the baby giggle again. While you don’t see him, you know here he is, can see the grass being parted underneath a little white moth floating in the air. You see his little green hands pop up from the grass to grasp at it before falling back down. Not far behind this is Mando. He’s simply dressed, underclothes you thought. They looked like soft cotton and they stuck to his body from sweat. He looks like he’s practicing combat forms, doing it slowly, methodically.

While caked in blood, your skirts are still able to flow in the wind, the briskness of it feels great over the warmth the sun beats down on you. You take in a deep breath closing your eyes, enjoying the shimmering sound of the wind through the grass, a gentle babble of a brook somewhere. You start to step off the ship when little arms circle around your calf.

“Oh!” You look down at the strange green baby you’d seen before and he coos up at you, “Hello.” You reach down to pick him up, cradle him against your chest.

“You’re awake!” You glance up at Mando. He’s stopped his exercise and you smile across at him.

“Don’t sound too surprised!” You call over to him and look back down at the baby. You can’t help but rub his little cheeks.

“Well, you were out for three days.” He’s walking towards you now, tilting his head to look down at the baby who is so happily in your arms. The little one has grabbed your finger and seems to be looking it over. “He’s been really interested in you. I’d catch him staring at the bunk door sometimes.”

“Is that so?” You ask, more to the baby than anything else. He’s nibbling at your fingertip. “Well, I would imagine he probably would be.” You say, your heart warming to him easily.

“Why?” Mando asks, his visor tilting up a bit. You know he’s staring at you now.

“Because we’re made from the same fabric.” You only dare a glance up at Mando. You have a knowing sort of smile spread across your face and he straightens up and tilts his head at you. You can tell he wants to know, desperately. The baby’s hands slip from yours and you use your fingertip to stroke over his forehead. His big eyelids droop and slowly shut with a little sigh of content.

“What does that mean?” Mando asks, he almost sounds concerned. “How did you do that?”

“I’m not using sorcery if that’s what you’re asking.” You say, glancing up at him again. You feel as though you can see his look of astonishment through his visor. “He’s a baby. Babies get all gooey from soft head strokes. Some, anyway, or most.” You stroke down over his ears. “I worked with a few babies before I decided to leave.” Mando is tilting his head at you and you shake yours. You’re not looking to go into detail. “We should put him down. Does he have a cradle?”

Mando’s ushering you back into the ship. There’s a little padded pod by the kitchen table. You settle the child into it, tucking his robe up around his chin. As soon as you’re done Mando hits a button and the pod shuts closed.

“What do you mean you’re made of the same fabric?” He asks and you see settled on the table a bundle of clothes and little glass bottles.

“We all are made of the same fabric. We’re all connected. You, me, the baby, the people we were attacked by.” You run your hands over the clothes. Their fabric is thick and soft and you smile to yourself. “Did you get these for me?” You’re pulling the stray feathers out of your hair and picking up the bottles. They’re amber in color, frosted with yellow tinted labels. Toiletries. “Sweetgrass and Cedar.” You mumble to yourself.

“Stop changing the subject.” He’s got his hand under your elbow now and you glance up at him, stare him down.

“I’m going to take a bath. I heard a stream out there.” You jerk your elbow away and gather up the pile he had made for you before turning to walk down the ramp.

“He’s my son.” He’s followed you to the top of the ramp and you turn to look at him from the bottom of it. Squint at him in the bright sunlight, you bring a hand up to shield your eyes.

“I know.”

“I need to know what he is so I can help him.” He says and you can feel the desperation radiating off him. You drop your hand from over your eyes and shrug.

“So, then, join me.” You turn away and start off, “Oh, and don’t forget towels!” You call back as you make your way to the water.

The water is crystal clear and the flow of it is gentle. It was so calm it almost looked nonexistent, like you’d just walk out into more open air. The rocks below looked smoothed from time, gold and black, veins of white dancing through them. You slip your gown off easily and slip into the water. The darkness of the rocks below and the blaze of sun above is enough to make the water pleasantly warm. You luxuriate in the feeling of scrubbing yourself clean from head to toe. You’re basically done, dipping your body under the water to remove any excess soap when you pop your head up and-

“You’re a pain in the ass.” His voice is still modulated and you’re quick to wipe the water from your eyes. He’s still got his under clothes and helmet on. Though, you weren’t surprised by the helmet you were surprised by the clothes. He’d brought two towels with him and a change of clothes, which he’d already tossed on the ground.

“Not getting in?” You ask as you drift your way over the edge. You weren’t going to argue with his statement, you were sure that you were.

“I’m working my way to it.” There’s annoyance in his voice, and you smirk to yourself, ducking your head down so that hopefully he can’t see it. “Turn around and don’t look back.” He commands, and you do as he says.

“You know, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You call over your shoulder, turning your head just slightly.

“I said don’t-“

“Okay. Okay.” You turn your head forward again and after a second you turn your head once more.

“What did I say?” Amusement is in his voice now and you knew he had been waiting for you to do it again. You smile to yourself, biting your lip as you turn your head back for good this time. After a minute you see him slip into the water next to you, helmet still on.

“Are you actually allowed to be this exposed?” You ask and he tilts his head, a deep sigh coming out from his modulator.

“Do you think I’d do it if it weren’t?” You don’t want him to catch you staring but you can’t help yourself. He’s broad and toned, not overly muscular, but he wasn’t lacking. You find your eyes trailing over his scars. He’s got tons of them. You’d felt them before, but now you were able to see them. You were certain there were even more than before.

“You didn’t have to do it at all.” You say as you turn back to the pile you had left by the water and pick up a bottle.

“I wanted to.” He says and you take in a deep breath. Maybe he had wanted you all these years. You turn the bottle over in your hands, feeling over the matted glass and edge of the label. You blink awake when he wraps his arms around you. “Am I still the only one?” He asks and you turn in his arms, face him. You press your free hand to the crook of his neck. His skin is a beautiful tan, natural and deepened by the sun. You think the underclothes he wears must be able to let sunlight through. His skin smells of the sun, feels scorchingly hot like the sun. You close your eyes and wonder if he is the sun. He pulls away slightly.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You finally say. You open your eyes slowly to look at him through your lashes. You can’t see anything behind his visor but you feel as though you’re looking right into his eyes. “A girl has needs.” Needs no one else was able to fulfil. No one else came close to him. You were never certain if it was because you’d always think of him or because no one gave as much of a fuck as he had. Everyone else had been greedy. Mando had only given. You’d only had a handful of lovers since you’d run away and you’d been on the run for about six months now. You’d never tell him. You owed no one an explanation.

“Does a girl have needs now?” He asks and he presses you back against the side of the stream, you can feel the weight of him, hard and thick against your leg. Your breath hitches in your throat. His hands go down to your hips and your eyes flutter shut as his thumbs stroke over your skin there.

“Maybe,” You sigh the word out, try to press up against him but he pulls back from you completely, tilts his head down at you.

“Tell me about my son.” He says and you feel like you could almost choke, eyes opening to glare.

“Was that all a ploy?” You shove at his chest and he laughs.

“I’m only fighting fire with fire.” He says and you feel so very confused. Did he want you or didn’t he? “My son, if you don’t mind.” He’s taking the bottle from your hand and you just stare at him in disbelief.

“Your son is like me.” You say finally, watching as he lathers up the soap in his hands, moving to a shallower spot to soap up. “He’s strong with,” You pause, “People call it sorcery these days but it’s something else.” He’s rubbing his hands over his neck, working his way down over his collarbones, chest, stomach. You tilt your head, waiting for it.

“What is it?” He asks, turning away from you. You can see his arm moving over himself, working up and down. You try to move to catch a look but he’s turning, blocking you from seeing just what you want.

“It’s called The Force.” You say and he turns back to you now, lets you get a show. You bite at your lip and suddenly wish so very much that the water was cold.

“And that’s the thing you said connects us all?” He asks, grunts a bit and you press your thighs together.

“It is.” You breathe and he hunches over, his hand moving faster, his other coming down to cup at his balls. “Do you need help with that?” You ask but he’s ignoring you.

“What is it exactly?” His voice is strained, and your mouth goes dry, he starts to turn away again.

“It was created by life and therefore in all living things.” You blurt and he turns back, eases himself towards you.

“Go on.” He’s getting closer and closer and you press back against the edge harder.

“Some beings are born sensitive to it because of the Midi-chlorians in our cells.” You’re just spewing information from the schooling you’ve had. He takes his hand from his balls and reaches to you. You can’t help but reach for him, but he stops you, presses you back against the edge, grabs up your hands and presses them up next to your head.

“Midi-chlorians?” He breathes and you shiver at how the word rolls over your body. How was he able to make that sound sexy?

“Midi-chlorians,” You start but suddenly he’s pressing his helmet to your forehead, his groans falling out from it. You whimper against it, your lips pressing to the beskar, your hot breath leaving condensation over the metal. He squeezes your linked hands hard under his own and you take in a hissing breath, “Midi-chlorians are these organisms,” You lift your leg between his and use your thigh to rub up against him, He hums in appreciation. “Microscopic. Some people have more than others. They like us, the force likes them, speaks through them,” His head falls to your shoulder, the motion of his arm causing the water to splash around you, “Therefore we can use the force.” He lets out a choked moan, his body going rigid over you as he climaxes and you heave under him. You’ve done nothing but your body is worked up like it has.

“Thank you.” He says from his place at your shoulder. He finally lets go of your hands.

“You’re horrible and I hate you.” You push him away from you and his body has gone lazy, swaying as he backs away from you.

“Fire with fire.” He says again and you glare. “Like you weren’t going to do something similar to try and make me drop the subject.” He had you there. “You showed your hand when you asked me to join you.” He turns away from you and goes off to finish his bath. He’s tilting his head down to wash over his legs you can see peeking out from under his helmet the curl of dark hairs. You turn back to the pile of clothes and rummage around. You knew you saw something and sure enough-

“Take your helmet off.” You’re behind him now and he whips around. You can feel him doing it but can’t see. You’ve tied a scarf he got you around your eyes. It’s thin and soft and you suspect it’s for sandy planets should you go to one.

“Why?” He asks and you hold up the bottle of shampoo. He sighs and walks away from you, comes back a moment later. “Here.” He says, and you feel him wrapping you around his back, takes you over to a spot on the rock ledge that has a seat to it.

“Thank you.” You say cheerfully and you can hear him splashing water. You’re certain he must be washing his face. You smile thinking it must feel absolutely refreshing for him when he gets to do such a thing. You dump a little bit of the shampoo into your hand. His hands move to grab you around your shins, fingers cupping around your ankles. He brings them up to wrap your legs around his waist, “You know, I barely know anything about you.” You say as you work your fingers into his hair. Cedar and sweetgrass. The combination on you brought out more sweetgrass, on him it’s cedar. You take in a deep breath.

“What’s there to know?” He asks. He relaxes back, his shoulder blades pressing against your stomach.

“Do you cut your own hair?” You ask and he goes rigid under you. “It’s not like I can see it to see if it’s good or bad.”

“I do.” He says at last, “there’s no one else.”

“I get it.” You curl your fingers and softly scrub his scalp with your nails. He turns to putty under your touch, head falling forward. “It’s soft.”

“Thank you.” He sounds as though he’s gone into a trance.

“Did you know our people are ancient enemies?” You scrape your nails along the hair at the nape of his neck. You can feel him shiver between your legs.

“I’ve heard something about that.” He says, drops his head back between your breasts. His soft soapy hair lathers them as he cradles his head back. You move to scratch over his beard and under his chin, try to ignore the soft tickle of his hair over your chest. You give a soft sigh and feel him tighten your legs around him a bit more.

“Mandalorians used to kill us. Though, we weren’t kind to you either.”

“So, you’re saying I have the legs of my enemy wrapped around me?” You can feel a smile forming across his face under your fingertips. You squeeze him with your thighs.

“I’m not your enemy but I can be if you’d like.” You say and he gives a small chuckle.

“I don’t think anyone would be better off making you their enemy.”

“Nor you.” You smile to yourself. “We’d make a pair to be reckoned with.”

“We would.” He agrees, boneless in your arms.

“Have you tried a blindfold with a someone since me?” You ask. He shakes his head back against you.

“No.” You’re using your nail to draw paths through his hair, grazing lightly over his scalp. He’s melting, not into the water, but into you.

“See? Babies like soft head touches.” You tease but he doesn’t quip back, “So, uh, there have been people?” You ask and realize that he doesn’t really owe you an explanation either. “You don’t have to answer that.” You say and he shrugs it off.

“I don’t mind.” He says, starts stroking up your calves, fingertips tickling over your knees. “There have been a few.” You hum both in understanding and in enjoyment. “That Twi’lek was one of them.”

“What?” You stop completely and he’s bouncing with laughter between your legs. “Wow. Great taste there, Mando.”

“I have a thing for strong women.” He says defensively. You unhook your ankles from around him and push him away for what felt like the millionth time.

“We’re done here.” You say, slipping off the seat and rinsing away the shampoo he got on you. “Go get your helmet on.”

“Come on. Do you think every person you’ve slept with has been a complete winner?” He’s rinsing himself off and you roll your eyes under the scarf. He seems to be able to tell. “Hey, you slept with me, didn’t you?”

“You were the best of them all.” You say and he stops, looks back at you, not that you could tell.

“Then I feel bad for you.” He’s moving out of the water and after a moment he’s tapping you on the shoulder. You rip your scarf off and he’s fully dressed, armor and all.

“Yeah, well, take what you can get. I guess.” You take his hand and he pulls you effortlessly out of the water. “Not every guy can tease a girl to the point of insanity and then fuck her tenderly.” You glance up at him, “Or not fuck her at all.”

“Bitter?” He’s tilting his head and you wave a hand at him.

“I’ve got two hands and plenty of dexterity.” You can’t see a single thing beyond that visor, but you know he’s grinning at you from behind it. He hands you a towel and you yank it out of his grasp.

“Then I’ll leave you to it.” He says, turning to walk off to the ship.

“You’re the one that’s a pain in the ass!” You call back to him, but he doesn’t turn back for a second.

Every piece of clothing he had picked up for you fit relatively well. Some things were a bit off, but you assumed he did the best he could. The shirt was a bit too big, but you managed to bring it in with the utility belt he had gotten you. You left the shirt tails hanging down to cover up your saber holster, thinking it would have to do. The pants were stretchy and while maybe the slightest bit tight, you didn’t mind the fit of them. The boots were perfect. They were knee high and belted, equipped with slots for knives should there be a need for it. He had also gotten you a few pieces of leather armor. Gauntlets, gloves, and a vest. You’d left those off for now and gathered them up with you before making your way to the ship.

“That was quick.” He says, pulling what looked like dinner out of a crate he had laying around.

“Yeah, well, I was worked up real tight.” You shoot back and he gives a short chuckle. “Mando,” You’re looking around the hull of the ship. It was crowded with boxes, old fuel jugs, and cargo nets hanging here and there, “Have you ever thought about maybe making the ship a bit more kid friendly?”

“What?” He’s turning back to you and you could almost feel the embarrassment radiating off him.

“Maybe make this place more of a home.” You reach out and touch over a ripped piece of cargo net.

“We don’t need all of that.”

“Sure you do.” You look up at him as he sets the table. One plate and the food next to that. The kid is in his little pod already nibbling on a piece of bread. “You could get a conservator, and a little portable stove top. Clean it up in here and maybe turn one or two of these holding cells into a few rooms. One for you and one for the kid.”

“Where would you sleep?”

“Me? I’d,” You tilt your head down at him, “I’d,” You notice that he’s sitting opposite of the plate he had set. There isn’t one in front of him. “Why would I be here?”

“I was thinking.” He’s not looking at you, or at least his helmet isn’t turned towards you, “The kid needs a mentor and I can pay you.” The words hit you hard, your poor heart squeezes and you shake your head.

“You can pay me?”

“If you stay, I’ll help you clear your bounty. I’ll help you pay off whatever you owe and keep you out of jail. And I’ll pay you to teach my son,” He finally looks up, you can feel his eyes are hopeful. “It’s all I can offer you.”

“Is that why you did all of this?” You gesture down at your clothes. Your eyes are searching for what they’ll never find. All that will ever meet them is lifeless metal and dark glass.

“You saved my life.” He says simply.

“And the river? Was that more ploy to get me to stay?” You ask and he straightens up, shakes his head.

“What? No. That’s not-“ He’s taking in a deep breath. “If you leave right now, you still have a high bounty.”

“Say you killed me.”

“They’ll want your body as proof.” He says and you stiffen slightly. You realize that every bounty hunter would say their target was killed if they never had to give any proof. “If you run now, it might not be me, but someone will find you.”

“So, I’ll run.” You’re so deeply disappointed. You couldn’t believe how you had fooled yourself. Everything at the river made sense now. How he didn’t touch you. He didn’t care for you. He just wanted to try and manipulate you into staying here to help his kid.

“Where will you go?” He’s standing up now, walking towards you.

“Wherever I want.” You’re backing away, back up against the wall of the ship.

“They find you again. And then what?” He’s still moving forward, and you place a hand to his chest.

“I run.” You stare up at him, look where you think his eyes might be.

“They find you again.” He takes another step and you push back against him, “And then what?”

“I run.”

“Why?” He takes your wrist into his hand, pulls your hand from his chest.

“Because.” You try to straighten up but only end up pressing flat against the ship.

“Why?” His voice is firmer and you’re staring daggers at him, you won’t back down. You think you could teleport away. You think you could run from him now. Or is it just _for_ now? You think of him finding you again. He’s dropping your wrist and grabbing your arms. “Why!?”

“Because!” You take in a shaky breath and he’s staring down at you. It’s the first time you don’t have any read on how he feels. “I want to stay on my own free will. Not because you’re paying me.”

“That’s what this is about?”

“I will not live my life to fill someone else’s purpose. Not again. All it is, is a cage.”

“I’m not trying to cage you.” His grip on your arms tightens just slightly and you feel otherwise, pressed against the wall, clutched in his arms.

“Then what do you call this?” You try to move your arms but can barely budge.

“Look, my son needs a mentor. I’ve been trying to find his people. It’s either the sorcerers or his kind. I can’t find them anywhere. Then, I hear about you. I wasn’t looking. I wasn’t taking bounties. I was in the markets getting food for us when I heard your description from two gossiping women. This thing, this,” He shakes his head in thought, “force.” He finally found the word, “That connects us all. Maybe it’s connecting,” He takes a deep breath, looks over your face, takes in your stubborn stare. He lets go of you. “Maybe it’s connecting the two of you.” He moves away from you, drops down into the bench next to the table. You look to the pod. The baby is floating peacefully in it. He’s covered in bread crumbs as he munches away at his loaf. You glance back at Mando. “I’m sorry about the river. It was a bit of fun. If I took it too far then I’m sorry. I’m not the greatest when it comes to talking to people.” He’s resting his elbows on his knees and he’s hanging his head. “But I get that you’re your own person. I get that you want to do what you want to do when you want to do it. I just didn’t want to ask you to stay and have you think that I was trying to keep you here without offering you something. Why else would someone like you want to stay here with-” He straightens up, “the baby.”

“The baby?”

“He’s a hand full, and he can be a pain in the ass, and he doesn’t get certain things. He tries. He’s just not well socialized and sometimes he messes up.”

“The baby is all that?” You ask, watch as said baby reaches for the serving plate at the table for some cured meat. You walk over and pull off a piece, hand it to the little guy.

“Yes.”

“Well, then. It does sound like someone needs to teach him a thing or two. You’re certainly not going to teach him how to be proper or even how to take care of himself.” You say, gesturing around the hull.

“I’m still alive.”

“Barely. You stayed alive so long before the baby only because you wanted to draw out as much pain on yourself that you possibly could. Death is merciful in your eyes.” You can hear him through his helmet, a small puff of air. You had promised him once to not go deep into his emotions. Despite that promise you could still feel all the torment he had put himself through. “I’ll stay and we’ll both earn money here and there. I’ll teach him all I know.”

“Thank you.” He says and you settle yourself down in front of the plate he set you.

“I have one condition.” You say and he tilts his head to you, “We clean up this ship. As charming as it is, you have a son now and he deserves the best kind of life you can afford him.” Mando looks around the ship, takes in the grimy floors, the busted doors that can’t open anymore, the tattered nets, and heavy cargo boxes filled with things he was afraid of letting go of. What if he needed them one day? “It’s me or the junk.” He sits there and groans.

“You.” He mumbles and you smile brightly as you pick up another piece of meat and rip it for the baby to eat. He doesn’t regret his choice for a second.


	4. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet someone from Mando’s past and the two of you learn a bit more about each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is heavily character driven this time around. Next chapter will have a lot more action and perhaps have a bit more plot to it. Though, this chapter has heavy hints of a plot.

Dim light. That seemed to be the extent of what you knew. There was no room for vibrancy. Dull clothes, dull stone corridors, dull light coming through warped windows overgrown with vines. A secluded temple all to yourself tucked away in the thickest of forests. Candles seemed to be the only source of light for the most part and even then they were kept away from you. Your caretakers noticed how you’d let the flames lick your fingers. It was the warmth they’d provide. The sensation of just, _something_ , anything.

“Come on now! Why don’t we form bonds?” It was another nameless caretaker. She was tall, probably the tallest of the lot that you’d ever seen and pretty. You thought her blue eyes probably sparkled and her cheeks turned pink when she’s in the sunlight. You could see her thick brow twitch in the smallest bit of annoyance out of the corner of your eye. “Do stop staring out the window and pay attention!” You did. You turned your eyes from the window, thought you could see the pinks and purples of a setting sun. The colors brought life to you for all of a second.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t-“ You start, feeling that small bit of life fade from you now.

“Bonds!” She’d been tapping her pen on the table, the pace of it speeding up just slightly as you stared at her blankly. You knew the answer. It had been drilled into you since the moment you could form an understanding of language.

“We don’t form bonds because bonds lead to emotions. Emotions disrupt our peace. Our peace keeps balance and harmony.” You’ve said it all before.

“What do emotions do?” Her pen had gone back to a steady ‘thump’ against her desk. You took a deep breath, tried not to roll your eyes.

“Emotions lead to a multitude of things. Ignorance, passion, chaos. All of which lead down a dark path. To lose one’s control is to lose one’s self. Peace, knowledge, serenity, and harmony keep one in balance. Keep one with the force.” You’d been watching the flame, pushed just out of arms reach on your desk. It danced before you, looked as though it were struggling to jump away from its wick.

“You keep staring at that flame. If you’re so interested, let me teach you something.” The caretaker’s voice snapped you out of your study of it. “In the proper balance, it is safe. It has power, but it is controlled. It is in harmony with the world around it. Feed that flame and it becomes wild.” She lifted from her seat, walked over with a piece of paper and held it over the flame. In a flash the paper ignited, the fire licked it’s way up to her hand. She moved quick, handed you the edge she’d been holding. You took it hesitantly. “It will destroy the world around it, consume you and everything until all that is left is chaos and destruction. Control the flame, girl. Bring back the peace.” You trembled as the flames ate away at the paper, got closer and closer to your hand and-

You gasp awake, coated in a cold sweat. Mando had given you the only bunk. He’d helped you clean it up a bit and pad it. It was still rather uncomfortable but it was a start. You felt as though you couldn’t complain. He’d taken to the pilots chair as a sacrifice for you. The baby had started sleeping with you most nights. He’d be in his little pod floating just outside the bunk. You slept with your hand reached out holding the edge of it. He had a habit of kicking his blanket off, fussing, and you’d constantly have to pull it back over his little feet. You were often scared he’d wake and be too cold. You slept in complete darkness, just the glow of orange and red buttons to light the space around you. In your twilight state you could have sworn they were flickering like the candles in your memory. You shake your head and try to pull yourself out of it. You reach out for the baby, only to find nothing there.

“Stars!” you whisper to yourself, pulling yourself out of the bunk. “Baby!?” you’re half whispering half shouting, trying to look around in the dark, feel out for him. He’s safe. He’s safe in Mando’s arms. You’re careful as you shift along the hull, trying to avoid any boxes or nets that you had yet gotten Mando to throw away until you’re at the kitchen table. You can sense them there together. Both happily at peace. “Mand-“ you’re cut off, squeaking as he shoots up from his seat at the bench. You can barely register it, it happens so fast but suddenly you’re being pressed against the metal doors of his weapons cabinet. He’s got one arm across your chest, pinning you back. Cold metal, sharp against the delicate skin of your throat. You can hear the hum of his blade, the tip of it poking against your earlobe. “It’s me! It’s me!” you can feel him a bit out of it, disgruntled, angry, and protective.

“What?” He’s lacking his helmet and you can hear him coming around. The baby is starting to stir in his arms.

“It’s me.” You’re keeping your voice a whisper as to not startle him any further and he drops his arm from you, tosses his knife on the table.

“I’m sorry. I-“ He’s reaching out to you, bear hand over your neck, calloused and rough. His thumb traces over where the blade just was. “Are you hurt?” You gently push his hand away.

“I’m fine. Are you ok? Is the baby?” You feel out in the darkness, hands going to his chest. You meet bare skin, pocked and puckered. You feel downward, until you feel the baby in the crook of his arm. He seems mildly upset, fussing just slightly. You scoop him from Mando’s arm, shush him. “I think you only pricked my earlobe. But I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry.” Is all he offers.

“What are you doing down here with the baby?” You ask, slowly skimming your feet along the floor, feeling out a safe path back to the pod.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You can almost feel how hard his heart is beating and you settle the baby down.

“Bad dream?”

“Something like that.” He’s exhaling the words as if he’d just taken a deep breath.

“Bad memory?” You close the baby’s pod, decide if you’re going to be talking, better try not to wake the baby. Only, now it’s gone silent in the hull. “Mando?”

“You know, you have something to call me,” He says, avoiding the subject. You leave it be. You know he’ll tell you when he wants to, if he wants to, “I don’t have anything to call you.”

“I don’t really,” You’re trying to figure out how to say it. You cross your arms over yourself. It’s a little cold in the hull, especially out in space. All you had on was one of his undershirts. You gather the long sleeves of it and pull it down around your hands.

“You don’t have a name?” He sounds rather shocked and you hug yourself tighter.

“Do you?” You shoot back.

“I do.”

“Besides Mando?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I don’t.” You’re leaning back against your bunk area. You can only see the vague outline of him thanks to the soft glow of the buttons. You can see his broadness and the way the curls on his head are wild. Aside from that, it’s like looking at a shadow.

“No one ever gave you a name?” He’s stepping towards you but you put a hand up and hold him back.

“If you come any closer, I’ll be able to see you.” You say, bringing your hand down and releasing him.

“Thank you.” He sounds a bit breathless. You thought perhaps you held him back a bit too hard.

“Yeah.” There’s silence now, just the gentle hum of the ship.

“Well.” He seems like he’s trying to figure out what to say. You rub your hands over your arms. You want to ask him again why he came down here and you feel like he probably wants to know more about your lack of a name. Instead, “Goodnight, then.” He turns away to the ladder and you start to climb up into your bunk.

“Goodnight.” You call back, can hear him walking around in the cockpit, hear him slump into his chair. You lay there, looking over the buttons, staring at them until they flicker again. You drift through the twilight into dark black ink.

\----

Bright light and blistering heat hit you all at once. You groan as you slip yourself further into the bunk. The baby’s up and cooing and you toss an arm over your eyes.

“You need to warn people before you land and open doors like that!” You call out at him but he doesn’t respond and frankly you can’t hear the kid either. All you can feel is their energies fading from you. You pull yourself out of the bunk just as a gust of wind tosses in sand. You bring your shirt up over your eyes and rush over to hit the button to close the door. “Stars!” You look around the hull at all the sand that’s been kicked up into it. “I’m going to kill that man.” You shake your head and decide on a fate worse than death. You’ll just force him to clean it up when he gets back. You also weren’t going to sit there and wait for him either. You got yourself ready for the day.

The wind would have been brutal walking towards the city if you didn’t have the scarf Mando had provided you. When it wasn’t layered up over your eyes it was just transparent enough to let you see though and just thick enough to keep the sand out. Once in the city things got a bit easier. The city walls were big enough to break the wind. The city itself was seemingly made of stone, some dwellings painted a terracotta color. Some were painted all sorts of vibrant colors, turquoise, purple, magenta. The colors swirled together in murals on broader walls. Murals of all different people, different species, some were flowers, some were tropical places. You thought perhaps the flowers and tropical settings were more hopes and dreams of people that lived here. From what you could tell it looked like you couldn’t grow a single thing here. You made your way down to the markets.

You were just looking around, had nothing in mind. Perhaps a few spare pieces of clothes, things to swap out between washes. You were mulling over a shirt when you saw Mando out of the corner of your eye. His beskar gleaming in the sunlight. It was near impossible to miss him. In the crook of his arm the child is glancing around at all the hustle and bustle. Amidst all of it the child still manages to turn and look at you. You could see him beam, see him laugh. You gave a small wave before ducking behind a stack of boxes. Mando was chatting away with someone. You couldn’t see them. You could only see Mando nodding at whatever they were saying, glancing down to see the child seemingly smiling at no one. The way he tilts his head down at the little one as if in question and how the baby looks back up at him with nothing but adoration. Your heart flutters in your chest. You watch as Mando turns back to the person and nods. There’s an exchange between hands before he turns and heads off.

“Are you going to buy the shirt or not?” The lady at the stand is squinting up at you, trying to grab back the shirt from you.

“Oh, uh.” You fish around in one of your pouches and toss her a few credits which she gladly takes. You toss the shirt into a satchel you had and run off in the direction you last saw Mando heading in. You’re trying hard to sense him out but there are so many different energies around you. You try to focus on the child instead. You can feel him, he’s the strongest in the sea around you. You’re trying not to bring attention to yourself, walking briskly instead of running. You turn a corner, go down an ally, slip into a small back room of a store. Then, there’s absolutely nothing. The child is getting further from you but you don’t see anything. There’s no way Mando walked out through the front of the store without causing a scene and there’s nothing in the backroom. There’s no other doors or windows.

“Let me check in the back!” You can see someone coming and quickly duck behind a stock shelf. There’s a large metal grate and you realize just what happened. You wait, glancing over the top of some boxes, watching as the Mon Calamari checks around a few spots before collecting some things and walking away. You turn back to the grate, try to pull it up but find you don’t have much strength to.

“Damn it.” You close your eyes, focus, and reappear on the other side of the grate. You’re trying your best to be quiet. You’re certain that Mando is no fool and you’re anticipating that he’ll whip around a corner and grab you up, ask you why you’re following him. You trek through the dark tunnels, avoiding skittering creatures as you go. The smell down here is hard to deal with, old and musty. You can see large patches of what look like thick plush moss. Without sunlight you’re uncertain how it grows.

“I’m glad to see you again.” Mando’s voice echoes down the tunnel and you stop and listen.

“And I, you. How is the child?” A female voice. She sounds almost regal, her voice having an air of authority to it.

“Doing well.”

“Good. Please, come in.” It’s hard to hear after that. You edge up, try to get closer to the door. It’s jarred, the sliding mechanism seems a bit on the fritz with how the door is crooked in its track. It’s nothing but mumbled voices and the occasional coo of the child. You glance in, see a woman, a Mandalorian. She’s tall, strong looking, her posture something to be admired. She’s got little horns on her helmet, one that seems far more intricate than that of your Mandalorian. She also has a thick pelt draped over her shoulders. You watch as the two converse, watch until you notice her tick her head just slightly at the doorway.

“Oh sh-“ You try to blink yourself away but Mando, your Mando, throws the door open and grabs you, tosses you into the room. The woman has the tools of her trade in her hands, swings at you with a mallet and before she can connect, Mando is pulling you back to him. You see the follow through of her swing. You can see the concrete floor crack, hear the grunt she makes when her mallet connects with something much more solid than your face.

“Stop! She-“ He’s starting to explain but he doesn’t need to.

“Is this your sorceress?” She asks, bringing herself to stand straight again. She looks as though she’s towering over you and you take in a deep breath. “I’ve never seen one up close.” She’s looking you over. “So delicate.”

“I’m not.” You stand up straight to match her. Mando’s hand squeezes your arm. The Armorer puffs out a short laugh from her helmet.

“Have you fought her?” The Armorer asks.

“No. I’ve seen her fight. She teleports, moves things with her mind, and she has this.” He’s pulling back your long shirt to show your hilt at your hip. You jab at him with your elbow but just bang against his beskar.

“She,” You pull away from him, “can speak for herself. And she doesn’t need you showing that off.”

“What is it?” The Armorer asks and you sigh.

“It’s a light saber.” You summon it from your hip to your hand, step back to ignite it. The glow of it lights up the room, the hum almost deafening. The baby coos in Mando’s arms, he seems to like the look of it, follows it with his eyes as you hold it out.

“I’ve heard of such things. This is what helped create our beskar.” The Armorer is looking it over.

“That thing?” Mando is tilting his head at it.

“Your beskar deflects it. It’s one of the only known things that it can’t cut through.” You say, looking over at Mando from the Armorer.

“That thing?” He’s asking again and you tilt your head.

“You want a demonstration?” You’re only half joking.

“Please.” The Armorer gestures out for you to do so.

“Ok.” You look around the room at the various metal scraps she had about, “Give me something you don’t care about.” She’s looking through her pile before she holds up a long scrap of something shiny. You slice through it with ease. She turns back and grabs something else, again, it was nothing to you. She points to a stack of cinderblocks behind you and you bring the saber down, drag it through one until it’s cut in half. Finally, she’s pointing at a pile of ingots she has on a table. You swing down at that but your saber bounces back. Once, twice, third time, nothing.

“How interesting.” The Armorer is looking over the pile and you retract the saber, secure it back at your hip. “I think it’ll be quite nice for the child to learn from you. If you can in fact do all that Mando has says you can.”

“I can. And more.” You say and she looks back at you.

“So then, Sorceress, you’ve agreed to help raise this child by your creed?”

“I have. Separate from the Mandalorian. As it was asked of me.” You say and she looks to Mando.

“Are you not planning to raise him as a Mandalorian when the time comes?” She asks and you look between the two of them.

“Can he be both?” You implore.

“The two are not mutually exclusive.” She says and you look to the child. He’s gathered up some of Mando’s cape and is chewing on it. You move to stop him and he fusses for a second until you pull out a little cloth doll from the satchel. You had bought it with the hopes of making it look more like Mando. He looks the doll over before squeezing it to his chest. You smooth out Mando’s cape and he nods his head to you in thanks.

“The mother,” You cringe at the word, stomach turning, “a sorceress. The father, a Mandalorian.”

“We’re not together.” You and Mando say almost in unison.

“You don’t have to be.” She turns to you, tilts her head down at you. “You’re aware of the Mandalorian way?”

“Yes?” You furrow your brow.

“I’ve heard stories that your kind don’t feel emotions.”

“We do. Just the same as anyone else. We’re just not allowed to act on them. We’re not allowed to form bonds because of them.” You tell her. You’re so tired of the words you wish to never speak them or hear them again. She tilts her head at you.

“What a lonely life.” She says and you can’t help but glance to Mando and the baby. The meaning of it doesn’t go missed by her. “What happens should you form a bond?”

“A dark path.” Your eyes drop, stare at the floor. “It leads to destruction.” Mando is tilting his head down at you, you can see it from the corner of your eye but you don’t turn to look at him. The Armorer is studying the two of you.

“Is there darkness in you?”

“No.” Your eyes flick up to her. You don’t want to tell her that there’s darkness in everything. There is always potential. She tilts her head.

“Has he removed his helmet in your presence?” She asks and you don’t even flinch. You keep your stare blank.

“Never.”

“Has he told you his name?”

“No.” You’re not faltering, and she looks to Mando, tilts her head at him now.

“The mother doesn’t know the father’s name?” She asks and you cringe again. You shut your eyes tight, and take in a deep breath. You’re trying to ground yourself.

“Can you not use those words?” You slowly open your eyes, see Mando and the Armorer looking at you with tilted helmets. “Please. Sorry.”

“Perhaps there is darkness yet.” The Armorer jokes but it settles weird in your stomach. You cross your arms over your stomach.

“Is this acceptable?” Mando is turning back to the Armorer, “For the two of us to raise the child?” she nods her head.

“You’ve found his people. She’s agreed to stay with you. She’s aware of our way. She’s going to respect our way?” She looks to you again and you nod.

“Yes. I promise.”

“Good.” She turns away from the two of you, organizing the stack of beskar you had disturbed. The ingots gently clink together. “Return to me should anything change.” She says and you tilt your head up at Mando. He only shakes his head and walks out of the room. “Jedi,” She says, doesn’t turn from her task. You stay behind, watch as Mando and baby turn back to wait for you in the tunnel. “Close the door.” You lift your hand and watch as Mando tilts his head. You flick your wrist and the door shuts.

“What-“

“There was a woman here but three days ago. Tall, blue eyed and plainly dressed. She was looking for you.”

“Looking for me?”

“Looking for a woman that can teleport, move objects with just her mind, and can see the future.” She turns back to you. “I told her I knew of no such woman.”

“Thank you.” You’re grateful but she doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge it.

“I didn’t know of you at the time. There is no thanks needed.” She’s staring at you. You can feel the weight of her gaze on you. “Should anything happen to the Mandalorian or his foundling, either from you or this woman,” she turns back to her pile, “the next time I swing, I will not miss.”

“Nothing will happen to them.” You reassure. She doesn’t answer. You recognize her silence as finality and you take your leave, walking out into the tunnel to meet Mando and baby.

“What was that about?” He asks you as you walk out to him.

“Nothing.” You try to play it off but he’s tilting his head down at you. “Really.” He doesn’t buy it but he starts to walk off, and you follow. “We’re going back to the market, right?”

“Yeah. Why?” He’s glancing at you over his shoulder, slows down so that you’re walking side by side.

“Because I want to pick up a broom and a duster.”

“What for?” He’s tilting his head again and you just smile to yourself.

“Oh, you’ll see.”

\----

“Why did you lie for me?” The question comes some time after dinner, after the two of you had settled into your nightly routine of swapping out of the refresher to brush your teeth. You were huddled into your bunk, baby standing not too far in front of you. Despite the long day he still wanted to play catch. You hovered a shift knob you had found back and forth to each other.

“I didn’t lie.” You say without looking up, smiling at how the baby would giggle at the simple fun you were having.

“You did. To the Armorer. You told her I’ve never taken my helmet off in front of you.” He’s leaning outside of your bunk. He’s shirtless, just sweatpants and his helmet.

“It wasn’t so much as a lie as keeping a friend’s secret.” You say, playing a little keep away with the baby. You hover the ball around his head, circling back around to his hands. “Besides, you may have taken your helmet off but I never saw anything.” You can see the baby’s eyes getting a little heavy lidded. He slumps back to sit. He’s chewing on the ball instead of hovering it back to you. “Here, sweetheart.” You swap out the ball for the cloth doll, feeling a little better about the decreased choking hazard it provided. The baby turns to Mando now. He’s cradling his doll, chewing on the hand of it but reaching out to Mando, squeezing his hands out to him.

“But after I exposed you like that?” He’s scooping the child up in his arms. The baby presses his head to Mando’s chest, nuzzling in.

“That was shitty,” You admit but you shrug it off, “It doesn’t mean I should be shitty back.” You crawl a little out of the bunk. “It’s bedtime, huh?” You’re leaning out of your bunk, stroking over the baby’s exposed ear. “I saw you two earlier. Exchanging looks. It was sweet.”

“Where?” Mando is gently bouncing the baby in his arms and you can hear him start to snore.

“In the marketplace. When the baby was smiling? He was smiling at me. Right after, you two looked at each other and I could pretty much see your heart bursting.” You tease him, look up at him from the baby and you see his chest flush pink.

“No, you didn’t.” He’s protesting but his chest is getting redder and you drop your hand from the baby’s ear, place it on Mando’s arm.

“You don’t have to lie to me. I know you love your kid.” You pull you hand away and he’s tilting his head and you wonder just how much redder he could possibly get. “You want him to sleep up with you tonight?”

“No, he gets fussy when he’s not with you.” You watch as Mando settles the baby down in his pod.

“Does he kick his blanket off when he’s with you?” You’re settling back into your bunk.

“Never,” He turns to you, tilts his head, “He rubs at his eyes a lot and whines.”

“He never does that for me.” You say and Mando leans back against the edge of your bunk again, crosses his arms. The two of you look the baby over, watch as he snoozes peacefully. “Strange baby.”

“Hey,” Mando’s looking down at you now and you think he’s going to chide you for calling the baby strange, “I saw you got clothes today.”

“Yeah.” You furrow your brow at him.

“Did you happen to get a sleep shirt?”

“Why would I do that? I’ve got this.” You pluck at the shirt you have on, his undershirt.

“That’s mine.”

“You’ve got back ups.”

“It’s my only spare.”

“Well, there you go. You have another one.” You shrug and he’s just staring at you. “Fine. I’ll get one. Next time we stop.” He pushes himself off the wall and starts for the ladder.

“Goodnight.” You call over to him and he shuts off the light. “Rude ass.” You mumble, pulling the blanket up over your shoulder. You reach out and hold the edge of the baby’s pod.

“Keep it. It looks better on you.” His voice causes you to nearly jump out of your skin. “Also, I heard that.” You hear him ascend the ladder and smirk to yourself.

\----

You wake to the sensation of your hand being moved off the edge of the baby’s pod. You turn over in your bunk. Groan to yourself. It takes a second, but you come around, hear Mando making his way through the hull.

“Do you cuddle him after a bad dream because he’s so steady?” You don’t open your eyes, don’t budge.

“Steady?”

“His little breaths and how small and warm he is. Plus, he’s so at peace it’s hard to feel too anxious with him in your arms.” You can practically feel Mando’s heartbeat from where you are. It’s fast and frantic and finally you pull yourself out of the bunk. “Here.” You take the baby back from him, settle him down in his pod.

“What are you going to do?” He sounds so nervous and you almost feel bad taking away the child from him.

“Come here.” You can’t see anything in the pitch black, but you can sense his hesitancy. “Come here.” You reach out in his direction and finally he steps closer to you. Your fingertips brush over biceps. “Did you know, people can sync their heartbeats?” You ask and he laughs.

“That sounds like a load of shit.” His voice is threaded with disbelief and you roll your eyes.

“Give me your hand.” You demand and he doesn’t at first. You nudge him and finally he lifts his hand to you. You can see the outline of it in front of you, soft orange light spread over his fingertips. You pull down the collar of your shirt and you take his hand gently, press the palm of it to the center of your chest. You press his fingertips to your pulse at your neck.

“This isn’t going to-“ You shush him.

“Close your eyes.” You urge and he does. It takes a minute, but his stance starts to ease up, back hunching, head falling forward till he’s pressing his forehead to yours.

“Can you tell me why you don’t have a name?” His voice can barely be heard over the hum of the ship and you tilt your head up to meet his, nose bumps against nose. He laughs and you smile.

“I don’t have a name because names cause attachments. I’ve only been called, girl and woman, child,” You shrug. You can feel him swaying, his free arm coming to rest at your hip. You bring your arms up and wrap them around his shoulders. You start to sway with him, “I was raised in a very strict Jedi order.”

“Were there many of you? Why haven’t I heard of any of you?” He nuzzles at your head, the two of you are now cheek to cheek, the bristles of his scruff scratching your cheek.

“We were on the very outskirts of the galaxy. Closed off from so much. There was a decent amount of them. Only a hand full of younglings.” You say and his hand at your hip is moving up your back, stroking over it.

“What was it for?”

“To find the one to be the balance be-” You drop your head to his shoulder, “I shouldn’t. If you knew…” His hand at your throat moves down, rests over your hip.

“I dream about my parents.” He says and you feel your heart pounding in your chest. You never thought he’d tell you anything, “I dream about the things I’ve done. If _you_ knew…”

“You don’t have to tell me. I can feel it.” You can feel a small ache from the center of his chest, the sorrow of his previous life still causing ripples of pain. The two of you start to move in slow lazy circles. “Tell me about your parents? What are they like?”

“Were,” He corrects you and you look up at him.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper but he’s shaking his head, lifts his hand to press your head back to his shoulder.

“Don’t. It was a long time ago.” It still hurts him, and you could feel it, feel it pulsating from deep within. “I don’t remember much.” He takes in a deep breath, rests his cheek over your head at his shoulder. “I remember them being happy. I remember how much they loved me. How much they loved each other.” You start to imagine music. You haven’t heard much but you try to think of something slow maybe something romantic. “I remember that they used to dance, nice and slow just like this.”

“Probably better than this, though.” You tease, but the two of you aren’t too bad. You, trained your whole life to be light on your feet, and him, a warrior trained to move with purpose.

“I’ve never danced a day in my life, so probably.” His words are breathy with an edge of a laugh.

“Neither have I. But, I don’t think you can really mess up swaying.”

“No.” He agrees. You start to hum the music in your head and he laughs, goes along with it. The two of you sway there for a while, you eventually stop humming and he ducks his head down, kisses over your forehead. You breathe him in deep, can feel tingles spread out from where his lips touched. His lips feel softer than the last time you’d felt them. You wonder if he’d been anticipating this, wonder if he’d prepared himself for you. He nudges your cheek with his nose, tries to coax you to tilt your head up for him.

“Mando,” You pull away from him just slightly, look up at the outline of him, “There’s something you need to know.”

“What?” There’s a tinge of worry spreading through him.

“The Armorer. She told me someone was looking for me. Someone I know.” The two of you stop swaying and he starts to pull back from you. You think he’s worried it’s someone else, another person you wanted more than him. “A caretaker from the order I was raised in. I don’t know why she’s looking for me. I just remember she was the strictest one there was.” He’s an arm’s length away from you now and you try your hardest not to throw yourself back into his arms. You want to be locked against the warmth of his chest again.

“Do you think she wants to take you back?”

“I’d never go.” You reach out to him, hold his arms. You think he’ll walk away.

“This thing you were apart of, how secret is it?”

“Very.” Your voice is so quiet. “You think they think I’m a liability.” There’s no question about it.

“Yes.” The word hung in the air around the two of you. You look back down to the child, the dim light outlining the curve of his pod.

“Then maybe I shouldn’t stay here.” You slip from him. You’re the one walking away.

“No.” He’s reaching out for you, grabs you by the arm. “We’re allies now. We can work this out together.”

“Friends.” You correct. He doesn’t have to pull you hard, you’re willingly going to his arms. There’s relief flooding you. You feel more and more certain about your place here with him.

“Friends, then.” He’s pressing his forehead to yours. “Besides,” his nose is nudging at your cheek again. He’s begging, this time, for you to tilt your head up for him, “the baby would be devastated here without you.”

“The baby or this baby?” You tease, run your hands up over his stomach, rest them at his chest.

“Me? I’d be fine without you…” He trails off, looking for a name, “There’s really nothing to call you?”

“Nope. And I’d like to test that theory.” You say, try to push away from him but his arms around you are as strong as the beskar he wears. You just smirk to yourself, concentrate hard and soon you’re out of his arms and over next to the weapons cabinet. You can see the outline of him stumble forward just slightly and you try to stifle a laugh. It’s what gives you away, he’s there in front of you in a flash, pressing you back against the cold metal doors. His hands on either side of you. You gasp at the contrast of his heat in front of you.

“What should I call you?” He asks, brings a hand to lift your head up at your jaw. “What do you call yourself?”

“I don’t.” You turn your head, press your forehead to his jaw. “I don’t call myself anything.”

“Sorceress?” He asks, his lips to your ear now, warm breath curling over your neck like smoke from a fire. You shiver at the timbre of his voice. “Too long. Darling? Too sweet. Jedi? Too cold.” Your hands go up, fingers curling into his hair.

“Mando,” You lift your head, tilt it, lips ghosting over lips, “please.” It’s his turn now, tilts his head back from yours. You move a hand from his hair, stroke your thumb over his jaw. He tilts his head into the touch.

“Just one word,” He’s turning his head, pressing his lips to the palm of your hand, “Something that gets across what you are. Enigmatic.” He’s kissing over the delicate skin of your inner wrist.

“Mando,” You’re shivering.

“Give me something. Anything.” He’s begging you. His lips are over yours again. You feel dizzy, shake your head, feel the brush of the barely there contact. You think of silk, cream, flower petals. You suck in a deep breath. “Please.”

“No.” You breathe the word out over his lips and he hesitates, pulls back as you lean up. Your breath hitches in your throat, afraid he would leave you. He leans down as you’re dropping your head back. Frustrated you cup his face in your hands, lean up- but the baby shrieks. He’s pulling away from you, running to the baby. You follow behind. The little one is crying bloody murder and Mando takes him up into his arms, presses him to his chest.

“It’s ok baby.” You’re cooing, stroking over his head. He’s turning from Mando to you, curling a hand around your finger while still keeping a hold on Mando. “We’re both here.” You’re trying your best to assure him and Mando is shushing gently. The baby’s sniffling and you use your sleeve to wipe away his tears. “Silly baby, it’s ok.” He’s calming down, seemingly content with seeing both of you. He’s closing his eyes again and Mando settles him down in his pod, gently rocks it.

“He probably got scared when he woke up and neither of us were there.” He says and it breaks your heart.

“I guess all three of us have our own bad dreams.” The baby’s still sniffling and you stroke over his forehead.

“I want to ask you to stay.” He says and you look up at him, can barely see the outline of his jaw and you’re quick to turn your head away. The closer you are to the panel of buttons, the more light there is.

“You already have?”

“The night. With me.” He clarifies and you stop stroking the child’s head. “Will you?”

“Where?” He’s moving behind you, pulling out the foam padding and the blanket from your bunk. He’s laying it on the floor. “I haven’t said yes yet.” You quip but he’s looking up at you from the ground. You can feel his hopeless gaze and his head is busy with static or crashing waves or is it fire? It feels like all three all at once. You’re quick to drop down next to him, tug the pod with you. “Of course.”

The two of you lay there on the ground, entwined. His head pressed to your chest to hear your heart. Your hand is cupping his jaw, fingers stroking the soft hair at the nape of his neck. The baby is snoring and Mando’s hot breath is warming the fabric of your shirt, ghosting over your chest, over your heart. You close your eyes and kiss the top of his head. You don’t care about the repercussions of bonds right now. How can you when it doesn’t feel like the two of them are separate from you? To you, you’re one and the same.


	5. Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mando takes on a job and leaves you alone on a not so unfamiliar planet. When he doesn’t return, you’re left to take control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to be upfront. This chapter mentions of emotional/physical abuse though they’re very brief. (Separate from that) There is also violence. There’s some bad guy deaths in this one. There’s also description of loneliness and at the end, well, there’s something nice at the end.

Daybreak spills in through the smallest of cracks. The sun dragging colors across the sky, purples, pinks, and the gold that you’d come to associate with- A soft touch, a bare fingertip, drawing over your forehead, down over the curve of your cheek, settles at your chin. A thumb swiping over your lower lip. You part them, breathe him in. You can taste the saltiness of his skin on the tip of your tongue. He presses his helmet to your forehead.

“I’ll be back soon.” He says and you grab at his wrist, shake your head.

“Take me with you.” Your voice is sleep thick, a weak version of what it should be. You’re opening your eyes as he draws back from you.

“I always have, always will.” He says and in your twilight state you don’t understand. You don’t get it when he presses his hand just under his neck, pats it there.

“Why are you going?” You ask and he sits up fully, looks out of the small crack in the doors, the crack that allows light to scatter just across your face, golden dust dancing in its rays. He thinks he can’t stand to look at you too long. You’re still so fresh, looking innocent from having been stirred from deep sleep. Your hair is a mess and your eyes doe-like. He likes you like this. Likes seeing you like this sprawled across the bed he’d bought just for you. The bed he often times crawled into at night and you welcomed him with open arms, pressed his head to your chest. Would whisper to him that it’s ok now. Fall asleep like two pieces finally whole.

“We’re low on credits.” He’s drawing in a deep breath and you squeeze his wrist. He glances to you, you blink slowly, you’re trying not to fall back asleep. “It isn’t dangerous. It’ll be easy and I’ll be back in no time.” He’s pulling his wrist from your grasp, slipping on his glove.

“So, take me with you.” You’re pressing your head into the pillow. Silk. It was one thing you had splurged on, convinced Mando it was necessary. He admitted later your hair looked shinier since having it. You’d teased, asked if he had stared at you enough to really see the difference. He hadn’t answered, turned away at the time, left you grinning at the thought of his blush.

“No. I need you here with the kid.” He says, voice of reason.

“I’d take him with me.” You mumble into the pillow and Mando gives a short laugh. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.” You finally glance up at him but he’s looking at the kid in his little pod, rocking it gently.

“I’m safe as long as you and the kid are.” He says but you don’t get what he’s saying. You wonder if it’s his awkward way with words or maybe you’re too tired. Maybe in your twilight state you’re making it up.

“Give me.” You’re tangling your fingers in his cloak, tugging on it gently and he’s reaching for your hand, pulls it away.

“It’s my favorite one.” He says and you nod.

“Smells like you.” You’ve got no filter and he laughs. He’s pulling it off his shoulders, laying it down next to you. “Mando, I’ve got a bad feeling.” You’re keeping your voice soft, fingers curling into the fabric of the cloak, and he laughs again.

“I’ll be fine.” He says, places a hand over your shoulder, strokes his thumb there.

“Can I read your future?” You’re placing a hand over his and he shakes his head.

“No.” He looks off, out the small crack in the doors again, “Promise me you never will.” He says and you squeeze his hand. It draws him back to you, looks you over. “Promise me.” His voice is so soft and you nod.

“I promise.” You don’t want to. You think you could look at your own future, that’s allowed, right? If you saw him then that wasn’t cheating. You close your eyes, know that you couldn’t.

“I’ve got to go.” He says, slips his hand away from you and you pull the cloak close to you.

“Be careful.” You whisper, don’t open your eyes when he moves away. You’re afraid to look. You’re afraid it’ll be the last time you see him. Fear. Stars, that was something new. He doesn’t say goodbye. He just touches over the child’s head before slipping out of the little room he’s made you. When he’s finally gone, when the landing ramp closes and leaves you in darkness, you finally whisper out what you’d wanted to. You pull the cloak up to your face, burry your head into it and breathe him in. Sunlight. Vibrant and gold. You close your eyes and fall back asleep.

\---

The first day you take time for yourself. You’ve wondered out into the woods you were nestled so nicely into. You did your daily exercises and meditated. You washed clothes, hung them up to dry, bathed the baby, taken time to bathe yourself. You went over a few lessons with the baby. You had stopped, thought you heard someone, sensed out around you and when you felt that it was just some creature, unassuming and harmless, you went back to it. Later, when the child got tired and you had settled him down, you had tried your best to read. You wanted to keep your mind busy. You couldn’t stand the thought of Mando- You couldn’t even finish the thought.

You look for him when he isn’t there. Small signs that tell you he lingered, he existed. At the end of the second day you wonder up to the cockpit, looked over his chair. The leather of it was worn, settled in the shape of his form. Beams of orange and red spread through the treetops, casted shadows of leaves over the space around you. You look to the control panel, could see the most used buttons, the worn-down state of some of them, matted down from the once glossy sheen they’d held. You settle yourself down in his chair, leather, sweetgrass, and cedar emitting from it as you slumped your back against it. The sun was dipping lower in the sky. Purples and blues. You looked at the steering handles, could see the imprints of his hands on them. That bad feeling in your chest sunk lower and lower. You reach out, slipping your hand around one of the sticks. You could feel the imprint of his fingers under the pads of yours. You close your hand, pretend that you were holding his and feel absolutely silly for it. You look for him, through the windshield, look for him, when he isn’t there. You lift from his chair, head down to the baby to start dinner.

It’s hands on your shoulders, grasping you up. You gasp awake, eyes open to see him, complete, unharmed. He’s shining like the first night the two of you found each other again. You scramble to sit up, the cargo door slams shut, had you done that? You don’t care. Shrouded in darkness you half knock his helmet off, he’s half throwing it off. There is no hesitation, only the heavy breath of need. You’re drawing near, crashing. You’re grasping at the fabric around his breastplate, drawing him near. He’s pulling you in, arms wrapped around your back. Tender and needy. Neither of you care, neither of you laugh or mock. You only accept, only know. Mando is safe and back in your arms. So then why does it feel so empty? Why don’t you feel warmth? Why are his lips like the air you breathe? It’s a bright white-blue light. It strikes down at the two of you. There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing. And then- The two of you burst. A spectrum of colors spread out, scatter in silver and gold dust. Gorgeous for all of a moment, then, nothing. Darker than vantablack and you gasp awake.

Then it’s the third day. You’d spent the day trying to teach the baby but he couldn’t focus. You decide on drawing instead. He only draws Mando. He looks up at you after each one. You tell him that the drawings are beautiful but the look in his eyes, you know he isn’t asking if it’s good. He’s asking where his father is.

After dinner, you settle him down. He’s restless, keeps fussing and looking from door to door. You’re almost doing the same thing, stopping yourself when you start to. You don’t want to encourage his behavior or make him think you’re feeling the same way. It’s hard, to cut that away. You try to keep your emotions calm, know that it’ll feed into the baby’s own worries. Eventually he falls asleep after a lot of rocking, a lot of assurance. You settle him in your cargo room and pace the empty hull. You suddenly wish so badly to have all of Mando’s things. You wish you could go through them now, pick up each thing and wonder how he had come to acquire it. Wonder why he decided to keep it.

You hadn’t yet, but decide now is fine. You open the bunk hatch. He had gone back to the uncomfortable cramped space when he had bought you the bed. You glance in, don’t see much to really care about. There’s just one thing, tucked into the nook of a metal panel. A small notebook and pen. You flip to the last page he’d written on.

“ _Need to get money. Can’t ask her, afraid she’ll bring attention to herself. Don’t want her caretaker to find her_.” You run your fingers over the words, feel their indentation into the paper. “ _Going to take on a three-person mission alone. It’ll be hard but the pay is good. It’ll last us a while. Hoping all will go well. I want to see her again. I want to see the child happy. I want to see them both smiling at me_.” You run the pad of your finger over that last part, feel the words work their way into your heart. You scoot yourself out of the bunk, run up to the cockpit and power on the navigation. The name of the planet has your heart sink into your stomach. You’re not so good with technology. You were never taught much but you try to remember things you’d seen Mando do. You’re looking at your exact location. Of course. _Of course_. It had been the first place you had settled when you were free. One of the hardest places for you for many reasons. You swallow hard, look down at the notebook you couldn’t bring yourself to drop. “ _I want to see them both smiling at me_.”

\-----

When day breaks you don’t hesitate. With barely any sleep you’re up and eating a quick breakfast, dressing yourself and getting the baby up. You try your best with what you have. You put on the leather armor he had gotten you. You take a blaster from his weapons cabinet as well as a vibroblade to stick in your boot. You always have your saber on your hip. You’ve got his cloak on, baby strapped to your chest. You’re worried about the baby but you know in your heart you would never let anything happen to him and there’s no chance you’d leave him on the ship alone.

In town no one seems to have much information. You try avoiding much of the old places you had lingered, mostly afraid of running into one person.

“Lady Blackbird?” The name makes you cringe but you turn, see the person uttering them. An old neighbor of yours. She was tall, slender in every sense of the word, long limbs, long face, long cascading black hair. She was beautiful in that high-end model sense. Someone you’d see plastered on billboards on planets much more corrupt than this one.

“Trin,” You had tried your best to keep your head down. You didn’t want anyone, especially her or-

“You left Sen in quite a way.” She says and you circle your arms around the child. “Did you give birth to this thing? Is that why you left Sen?” She’s holding a hand out as if she were going to touch him. You pull back and she eyes you suspiciously, bright hazel eyes narrowing at you.

“I don’t need this right now. I’m looking for someone.” You’re glaring up at her, the baby too.

“A Mandalorian?” She asks and you take a breath.

“Yes.” You swallow hard, try not to let your heart jump out of your chest. “Do you know where he is?” For a second you’re afraid she’ll say Sen. The man had a nasty habit of collecting what didn’t belong to him.

“He’s in the Khaleaves Mountains. He was here a few days back, collecting some supplies before heading up there.” She crosses her arms over her chest, tilts her head down at you. “There’s a gang of at least twenty that are wreaking havoc on that little mining town up there.” The farming folk of the Magnolia Valley didn’t care much for the Khaleaves miners. The two needed each other, worked to supply the other, but hated each other’s way of living. Aside from the prosperous trade the two people held, they’d never deal with each other in any other way. The miners being attacked didn’t matter much to the farmers. It wouldn’t have surprised you if the Magnolia Valley farmers were the ones sending these people to attack the miners.

“Twenty?” You ask and the worry must be rather blatant on your face.

“A Mandalorian, huh? That is much more adventurous than a farmer.” Her hazel eyes bare down into you, the glare of a woman that wanted what you had so easily acquired, only to throw it away. “You always were so flittery.”

“Don’t tell Sen I’m here.” You start to push past her but she grabs your arm. The child raises his hand and pushes her back from you. “Thank you for the information.” You say, and turn quickly, trying not to stare at the absolute shock on her face for too long. You’re gone, finding a land speeder to take you where you need to go.

It’s an old baseline model, one that’s a bit bumpy but it works just the same. You sit, legs dangling off the back of the speeder, looking out at the valley below as an old beaten up droid tows you slowly up the mountain. It had been probably seven months since you’d been here last. You hold the child close to your chest. It felt like ages now. Ages since you’d picked a planet at random, teleported yourself there. You had no clue what you were doing. All you had was a modest bundle of clothes and your lightsaber. You had stumbled through the forest for days before you came to the quaint valley. With no skills and no credits you were nothing more than a feral animal to them. Something wild that rolled out of the forest, begging for food, for shelter. It was by chance you had come across Sen. He had been overrun by his herd of nerfs. Evidently, they had been spooked and ended up giving him a broken leg. You had healed him when you found him. He wasn’t horrible in terms of looks, seemingly gentle, a tuft of messy blonde hair, and skin that had been reddened by the many hours he’d spent in the sun. He was a collector. Always picking up strange things and holding onto them. You had just happened to be one of the strangest. While you weren’t interested in him romantically you had learned a lot from him. How to do business. He started adding you to his food stand as an attraction. He taught you how to charge people, how to bargain. You’d tell fortunes and heal the wounded. He’d make you do it until you were so drained at the end of the day you barely could stand. You’d only spent a month with him and while he would use you to get money you’d use him too. You had your own needs, needs that hadn’t been fulfilled since Mando. Only, Sen didn’t take this as casually as you had. He started asking for marriage. With a month having been free. Well, you refused. Things escalated. Sen had never been a gentle man. He’d always been coarse and self-indulgent. He’d never given a kind word. With a violent hand being raised against you, it had fallen. In a flash of green light, you had made sure that hand would never hit you or anyone else again. In that moment of panic and pain you ran, took what he had taught you about business and swore to never be used again. You’d never be forced into an order and you’d never be held under anyone’s thumb again.

You watch as the lights from the valley below fade away.

Even on landspeeder it took most the day to get up and around the mountain to the mines. Once there it was another game of questions. A Mandalorian had been seen. That was as much as anyone had information on. The threat had not been dealt with as of yet. There was that too. What you did know is that you could sense him. It was faint and dim, but his golden light could be felt. The sun on the horizon of your soul and you held onto it.

“I think the last anyone saw of the Mandalorian he was heading up into those caves there.” A kindly old lady. She was hunched and smelled of fresh baked bread. She points her finger out and you follow the line of it, could see just what she was talking about. In a thick overgrowth you could see what looks like an abandoned mine. “It’s dangerous up there, Hon. There’s all sorts of bad people up in there. If the Mandalorian can’t deal with them…” You look back down at her, “Especially you with that baby.” Your gaze shifts to said baby who only looks up at you with wide eyes. He coos and you look back to the woman, start to unstrap him from you.

“Could you please? I’ll be back by morning at the latest.” You say and she looks shocked.

“Young lady, I really don’t think-“ You reach out, place your hand over the baby’s head.

“Please,” You look to her and she only nods. You bend down and kiss over the baby’s head, “I’ll be back. I’ll have Mando with me.” You promise. The baby’s ears draw back, eye lids drooping at the sides. You turn from him, feel yourself leaving a part of you there while walking away to reclaim another.

It’s about an hours walk. The sun is setting in the sky, painting the world in dark oranges and reds. You don’t care any, follow your senses. You’re finally at an old broken-down entrance. It’s boarded up, dusty. The only thing that remains is a rusted old ladder. You climb it without hesitation. You can sense at least twenty people. At least Trin hadn’t lied to you about that. It’s when you get closer that you can see at the mouth of one of the caves, some people. There’s a few different species. They’re just now gathering outside of the cave. They’re talking about all the things they could do tonight. They talk about how they could take The Mandalorian out.

“Drag him through the streets. Show people just what happens when they mess with us.” You’re tucked behind a rock, heart aching as you hear the words. Your fingers go to grasp at the cloak around your neck, thumb rubbing over the fabric. You close your eyes and try to feel out for him, dim light pulsating, fading in and out. You feel your heart pounding against your ribcage.

“Leave the old man alone.” They talk about taking old explosives and using them to blow up houses. Most of them gather and walk away. There are a few that remain within the cave. It’s few enough. You focus on Mando, focus. You flicker from one place, appear in another. You drop to your knees beside him. He’s propped up against a rock, breathing heavily. You couldn’t believe they’d left his helmet on. You thought he probably fought tooth and nail to keep it on. He’s in bad shape, cuts and slits all over between his plates of armor. You’re quick to pull him to you. He’s grabbing at you, delirious. His hands go to your throat.

“Kriff,” He’s wheezing in a breath, his hands drop from your neck in an instant, “I’m hallucinating again.”

“No, you aren’t.” You’re trying to be quiet. You can sense people around but you’re not sure how far your voices will carry.

“This poison,” He’s reaching out, touching over your face, “has me dreaming of you so vividly at night. My sorceress. My angel.”

“Poison?” You whisper. You’re trying to work quick. You’re straddling his lap, pulling his gloves off of him. He’s bucking you off, throwing you down on the ground. “Mando it’s me!” You’re trying to be quiet but he’s over you, arm pressing against your chest. You force push him off, straddle him again. You’re holding him down with your mind, knowing that will be stronger than your body. You’re ripping his other glove off and grabbing up his hands, pressing them to the skin over your collarbones. “I need skin contact.” You press your hands over his, focus. This was how you had learned. You needed to be in contact with the person to heal them. You’d never tried it any other way.

“I want you to know my name.” He says and your eyes flutter open.

“What?” You take in a breath, “Stop it.” You’re trying to focus.

“If I’m going to die. I want you to know my name.” He sounds so distraught, voice nearly giving out. You can feel his hands trembling under yours and you think he’s crying.

“You’re not going to die. Stop.” You rub your thumbs over his hands, try to calm him, try to calm yourself.

“Please, angel. My name is-“ You squeeze his hands tight.

“Mando, tell me your name when you’re healthy and back on your feet. You’re not going to die.” He finally goes quiet and you take in a deep breath. Right now, you’re focusing hard, pulling the poison out of him, healing up the small cuts they’d made on him. It takes a while and once you’re done, you’re falling forward against him. You hear him coming around. He’s shifting under you, pulling himself up. You take a deep breath as his hands go to your face, cup it between his hands.

“Sorceress?” He’s looking you over and you give a weak smile.

“Surprise.” You’re trying to collect yourself, get off his lap. He’s gathering up his gloves and slipping them on. “I brought you this.” You say, tossing him the blaster. “And this.” You slip the vibroblade from your boot and over to him. He gladly takes them up.

“Why are you here? I said I’d be back soon.” He’s getting to his feet, holding a hand out to you.

“I wasn’t aware that four days was soon.” You shoot back, take his hand, and he’s pulling you to your feet.

“Four days?” He’s pressing a hand to his helmet. “The poison.”

“Good thing you had the antidote.” You give a little wave and he’s glaring at you. At least you’re sure he is.

“You shouldn’t have come. Where’s the child?” He’s looking around you.

“Safe. He’s with a kindly old woman that smelled of bread.”

“And that’s all the qualification that you need?” He’s tilting his head.

“Mando. Don’t act like you haven’t done the same.” The two of you are staring each other down. You wish more than anything to just run into his arms and stars, so does he.

“How did you get in here?” He asks and you take a deep breath.

“I teleported to you.” You look him over, “I can’t do the same out. I can’t take you with me.”

“Then go without me and I’ll make my way out.” He says, starts off to one of the tunnels and you follow behind.

“I’m not leaving you.” You’re pressed to his side as he looks around the wall of the cave.

“Don’t be like that. I need you safe.” He’s looking back at you and you’re gaze is set. You’re not going anywhere.

“I can’t leave you, Mando. I want to see you again.” You swallow hard, try to remember his words exactly, “I want to see the child happy. I want to see you both smiling at me.” Your words, he knows them from himself and his heart swells.

“Fine,” He’s looking back down the hall, waves his hand for you to follow him. You take a deep breath. You summon your lightsaber to your hand but do not ignite it. You only ready it.

There’s only five of them. Mando takes out two right away. It feels like slow motion. You turn, sensing two others. They’ve got blasters, you ignite your lightsaber as two blaster bolts head your way, deflect the two. The bolts fly off into the cave walls. Mando is grappling someone behind you. You deflect another bolt, manage to send it to the other shooter. They fall, grasping at their blown off hand. You shift, turn as Mando slides behind you. He’s got the guy in a headlock, brings his free arm up to kill the two shooters before sending a bolt straight up through the guy’s chin. He drops him to the ground. You’d never seen so much death firsthand and it chills you. Mando holsters his gun, looks over at you, reaches out his hand. He recognizes your wide-eyed look. You’re in shock.

“I will do the killing.” He says, and you slowly take his hand. “I’ll never make you. It’ll be my burden and mine alone. Okay?”

You don’t get to say anything, there are more pooling in from the mouth of the cave. They’d heard the blaster shots. You’re quick to ready yourself but Mando is shoving you behind him. You press your back to him, shift your weight, turn him so that the two of you are both facing the oncoming hoard. You push them back, a few falling. He’s quick to shoot them up. The next wave is pushing through, shooting out. You slip under Mando’s arm, step in front of him, his chest to your back. You counter what you can of the blasters with your lightsaber. One of them has a slugthrower. As you deflect that, a regular bullet, a blast of shrapnel scatters across your face. You drop down to your knees, push outward again, giving Mando the chance to take out another few. You take a moment to heal yourself, feel the shrapnel pushing out of the skin of your face and chest. Mando was unaffected. The shrapnel only bounced off his armor. They’re rushing now, luckily Mando was able to cover you long enough to let you heal. You’re on your feet again. The two of you back to back. Your hacking off limbs and he’s shooting those who fall. You’re not used to combat, not really. You let your guard down for all of a second, get hit on the back of the head. You fall down, your saber retracting. You pull it to yourself, scramble to sit up. You’re about to get up to rejoin the fight. You look up, see Mando taking on the final three. He does move with purpose. When you had watched your caretakers with lightsabers, you always admired how the weapon moved through the air with grace. Only, Mando was the weapon. He fought openly, letting his vulnerability be his biggest offense. Let them get close, then strike. One, sliced through the throat. Two, blaster through the head. Three, grappling hook, pull close, break their neck, drop them to the ground. You pull yourself up, watch as his chest heaves. He’s looking over the chaos, turns to you. His beskar is splattered with blood. He’s never seen you look so scared and he can’t bear it. He turns from you.

“Lets go.” Is all he says before he’s reclaiming his stolen weapons and walking out of the cave. The two of you head back to town. In silence or at least for the most part. There’s a few times where it seems like he wants to say something. There’s a snapping of a twig under his foot and it’s enough to set you on edge.

“Stars, Mando!” You shout under the canopy of trees. Only the faint glimmer of the moon can be seen curving over the top of his helmet as he turns to you. “I hate you!” You scream it. He steps to you and you force push him back. He doesn’t care, steps to you again. “Do you know how much I worried about you!?” You’ve got tears in your eyes, hand held up to keep him at a distance. You can hear him breathing heavy from the effort. You can see him struggle as he takes another step. “No!” You’re commanding and he stops. You drop your hand. “What was I going to do? I can’t fly your damn ship!” Your voice cracks and he lifts a hand out to you but you hold yours up again. You swallow hard, tears finally spilling down your face, large and hot. You wrap your arms around yourself, take in a shuddered breath, “What was I going to do with the child? How were we going to get off this damn planet? How could you be so stupid?” Your voice has trailed off into a weak whisper. “How was I supposed to live without you?”

“You’re not afraid of me?” His voice is just as soft and you swallow hard, look off at the moon beyond the leaves. Your tears are still streaming down your face.

“Stars! Yes! Everything about you scares me! It scares me how easily you kill. It scares me how you can break people like they’re nothing more than that twig beneath your boot. It scares me how you make it look like a dance. How you look so calm doing it. How it’s second nature to you. Most of all it scares me how much,” You drop your head, close your eyes and take in another deep breath, “It scares me how much it doesn’t matter to me. Because the scariest thing to me is the thought,” The thought of not having the sun in your life anymore, “the thought that I’d have to take care of the child alone.”

“Sorceress.” You open your eyes, watch as he steps closer to you. You don’t stop him this time.

“You idiot!” You’re slamming your fists down against his breastplate. His hands cup your cheeks, and you look up to him, glare at him through your eyelashes. He tilts his head, wipes at your tears with his thumbs.

“You knew what I was when you met me.” He’s laughing just slightly but it doesn’t make you feel any better. You don’t ease up on your glare. The moon has gone behind a cloud leaving the two of you in complete and utter darkness. “I promise you, from here on out, I’ll never leave you. Because after knowing you, my biggest fear is also raising the child alone.” It’s enough for you. You grab at the cloth next to his breastplate, pull him close. He’s got one arm slipping behind your back. With your other hand you’re half knocking his helmet off, he’s half pulling it off himself. You cup at his cheek, his hand grasping you around your wrist. It’s lips against lips, all hungry and want. The delicate slip of tongues. You breathe each other in like you’re all the other needs. You stumble back against a tree and Mando’s hand at your wrist reaches out, stabilizes the two of you against it. You savor his softness, the warmth that radiates off him. The two of you slow. Your grasp on him eases as his hand at your back strokes lightly. You slip both hands into his hair, fingers curling into it. It’s slow and languid kisses, both afraid to pull away, both worried it’ll never happen again. Eventually something comes to mind and you pull back, keep your eyes closed for fear of disrespecting his code. He presses his forehead down against yours.

“Mando,” You start and he hums in response, “What did you mean, ‘ _After knowing you_ ’?” You tilt your head, can feel his forehead scrunch. You think he’s smiling.

“Nothing scares me more than you.” Is all he says, before his lips are on yours once again.


	6. Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family runs into a spot of trouble. Someone from Reader's past gets dealt with. There's a very soft ending with quite a bit of heat at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Reader does meet Sen again. He's an asshole, but-
> 
> Spoiler Alert: He doesn't harm her.

A crackling fireplace spreads out a deep amber glow, warms the two of you. You were given mugs of thick warm melted chocolate and loaves of sweetbread to dunk. Mando left his to the side even after the lady had urged him.

“He doesn’t mean to be rude.” You’re placing a hand over the old lady’s. “He just can’t take his helmet off.”

“That’s nonsense. It’ll get cold!” She looks so very concerned and you smile up at her, almost want to laugh because you can see Mando hanging his head out of the corner of your eye. “Go on young man!”

“I-I,” He’s looking up at her and you know his eyes are probably like that of a puppy’s, begging for her to understand behind that helmet, “I can’t.” He exhales, slow and sad, “It’s against my religion.” He says and she sighs in defeat.

“I’ll make sure he gets to it. You must be so tired.” It was rather late in the night. She had stayed up waiting for you. Her eyes were drooping, sleep hanging hard on her lids. She lifted a hand to cover a yawn. “Please, get some rest.”

“Fine, fine. Just don’t let him skip out on that.”

“I won’t.” You promise and watch as she walks away. The little cottage she has is quaint. The people of the Khaleaves Mountains didn’t particularly care for technology or electricity. They much preferred the simple comforts of living alongside the planet. The room is comfortable, the baby sleeping on an armchair, his little snores faintly heard over the roar of the fire. Mando reaches out to you, takes your hand in his. Orange leather over your soft skin and you move to him. You settle between his legs, your back to his chest. You help him take his gloves off and you can hear him slip his helmet off.

“Let me try some.” He says and you dip some of the sweetbread into the chocolate. He takes the piece from you and you smile.

“Have you ever had chocolate before?” You ask and he presses his head to the back of your shoulder, feel it shake from side to side.

“It’s delicious.”

“It’s abundant here. There are some farms that grow cocoa beans down in Magnolia Valley. It’s pretty rare in the rest of the galaxy.” You say and he’s wrapping his arms around you, pressing his lips to your shoulder. “You ok, Mando?”

“Din.”

“What?” You almost want to turn around but stop yourself.

“My name.” You’re settling the mug and bread down beside you, place a hand over his, another going into his hair.

“Say it again?”

“Close your eyes.”

“But-“

“Close them.” He says again and you do. He shifts you around, you move with his guidance, straddle his lap. He kisses you softly. “My name is Din.” He says, cups your cheek and you lean your head into his hand. “Din Djarin.”

“Why are you telling me now?” You ask, turn your head to brush your lips over his inner wrist.

“You’ve saved my life, twice. You’ve kept secrets for me. You love our son. You didn’t let me make a fool of myself in that mine. You could have so easily just let me tell you. But now I know, you don’t do things because you’re afraid of the consequence, but because you respect me.” He’s gone quiet and you feel him lean up, pull your lips to his. The kiss is sweet, sweeter than the chocolate you’ve shared and just as smooth. You shift in his lap, the beskar a bit uncomfortable under you. He hums in response and you gasp as you feel him press up against you.

“That’s not beskar.” You breathe out, and he shakes his head.

“Nope.” He’s slipping his hands under your thighs and picks you up, laying you down in front of the fireplace. You squeak and he laughs. “Surprise you?” He asks, his lips going to your neck.

“Din,” You shock yourself. His name on your tongue feels so foreign. It’s right and yet it almost feels wrong. You melt against the fire, against his tongue. You gasp at the way his teeth bite into your flesh like you’re a fruit ready to be eaten. Your hands press down into his pauldrens. He’s pulling back.

“No biting?”

“Yes biting!” You’re throwing an arm over your eyes to keep from looking up at him like you so desperately want to do. “We can’t do this. Not here. The baby’s right there!” You wish so badly to be away from the heat of the fire, you’re molten all the way down to your core. “And in the bread lady’s house?”

“Bread lady? You didn’t ask her name?”

“Did you?” You quip and he’s pulling back from you. The heat eases up some, but only marginally.

“I guess not.” His voice is coming through the modulator once again and you open your eyes, see him facing away from you. You understand what he wants. It’s how you often ate dinner together. You situate yourself so that the two of you are sitting back to back. You pick up your mug and bread and hear him taking his helmet off.

“I promise, back on the ship, it’ll be different.” You say and he reaches out to his side and you reach back, placing your hand over his. The two of you eat your treats in comfortable silence.

\----

You were more than ready to get the hell out of this place. When day broke the three of you gathered your things, Mando tried to offer the lady a few credits but she refused. She said she was more than happy to have the company, strange company, but company none the less. The three of you had picked up what you were owed for dealing with the threat and made your way down off the Khaleaves Mountains and started your way through Magnolia Valley.

“You seem anxious. Something wrong?” He asks and you shake your head. Din decided to check out the market before the three of you headed back to the ship. He just wanted to gather some rations for your next journey. You’re trying to keep your head down but it’s hard when Din is standing next to you with the baby strapped to his back. You three stick out like a sore thumb. People are whispering and you try to duck your head down against Din’s shoulder. “You’re lying to me.” He says and you glance up.

“There’s just a lot of history here.” You say and he looks around, can see the people looking. He assumed it was all because of him, not because of you.

“Care to explain?” He asks, looking back down at you.

“Well,” You’re looking from the crowd and back up at him, “It’s sort of the first place I came to when I left the order.” You say and he tilts his head. “I didn’t come fresh out of the order knowing exactly what I’d do.” You say and he sees a man off in the distance, staring in your direction. It’s different from the other looks of the people around you. There’s a glare and an intensity to him that Din just knows isn’t right. He slips his arm around your waist, pulls you in close. It’s enough to pull you out of your thoughts.

“We should go.” He says and see him looking over his shoulder, almost turn to see what he’s looking at but he’s pulling you along. You don’t care to ask or tell him that you’re fully capable of walking yourself. Instead, you enjoy the closeness and the relief of getting the hell out of there. Besides, any of that would probably only make a scene and you weren’t really interested in drawing more attention to yourself.

\--

It’s quite a hike up through the forest to the ship. They didn’t call it Magnolia Valley for nothing. The place was nicely nestled in a mountain range, a Volcano to the north of everything. That’s what made the land around and below so lush and fertile. On your way up you’d told Din the extent of what had happened to you while there months back.

“Blonde hair and sun burnt skin?” He asks and you nod. “Sounds like a piece of-“

“What’s that?” You’re turning from Din’s arm, looking out over the horizon, through the trees. There’s a spec, growing closer and closer with each passing second. You can’t sense a single thing from it other than it was much bigger than what it appeared to be.

“We need to get deeper in the forest.” He’s pulling you along and you ditch the path you were on and duck into the forest with him. “It’s a gunship.” He says and you look back, can hear it getting closer. “Come on.” He’s pulling you again and you’re trying to keep up. The baby is looking at you concerned, and you try to offer a small smile.

“It’s ok. We’re just playing chase.” You try, his concern doesn’t ease up. There’s a plasma bolt blasting into the ground a few yards away from you and the three of you fall back, the baby squealing. Din is careful not to roll over on him and you’re already up on your feet pulling the other two up.

“We don’t have much coverage here.” He says, and he’s right. The trees are too sparse.

“You get to the ship!” You say, turn back to the gunship and take a deep breath.

“What are you doing?” He’s tugging you back by the back of your shirt and you squirm from him. “You’re going to get yourself killed!” He’s pulling you along and you stumble. There’s another plasma bolt going down next to you and the three of you fall to the ground again.

“Take the baby and run! I’ll distract them.” You’re glaring over at Din from your place on the ground. “Get to the ship and get out of here.” The three of you aren’t far. You can see the sheen of the Razor Crest just beyond some of the trees. You can hear the cannon powering up again and Din just stares over at you. The two of you hop back on your feet and start to run again. You’re going in different directions, he’s zigging, you’re zagging. Another bolt goes down and you launch into a tree. You throw your arms out to catch yourself, can see Din in the distance with the kid. He’s stopped to see if you’re ok. You turn around, brace yourself back against the tree. He’s not moving. “Go!” You call out and he’s shaking his head. The cannon is charging again and you look up. The gunship is right over you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, hold your arms out and concentrate. You can hear the whirr of Mando’s grappling hook but you block it, open your eyes to look up at the gunship. It shoots out but you hold it back, hold the whole damn ship back. You’re breathing heavy from the effort. Mando is looking you over.

“I SAID GO!” You scream at him and he’s running to the ship. Your body is shaking hard from the effort. There’s another gunship coming. You can hear it screeching through the sky. You drop to your knees, tears streaming down your face from the effort. The ship is trying to shoot out another plasma bolt and you scream, hold that one back too. You can hear the Razor Crest power on. The other gunship is attacking Mando, and you want to look but can’t break your concentration. You can see the flashes of him and the other gunship exchanging fire before he’s taking off, the other gunship gone behind him. When you know Din and the baby are gone you push the plasma bolts back to the ship, try to put up a shield for yourself, but it’s far too weak. You’ve drained yourself. You fly back into the tree that splinters from the explosion. You’re hit with shrapnel. You get buried under earth, splintered wood, and ash.

\----

“If you set a bird free and it comes back to you, well,” You feel arms slide under you, the blaring high pitched squeal of a note is stuck in your ears. Ringing over and over, you wish it would stop, “Then that means it’s yours.” You try to open your eyes but just can’t manage to.

“Mando?” You whisper but they only shush you. You try to sense out but can’t feel a thing. You try to heal yourself but can’t. You feel like you’re drained of everything and exhaustion hits you hard. You pass out again.

\--

“What have you done, child?” There’s nothing but dark thick billowing smoke. Your body is sunk down into the ground of a thick dark green marsh. Your caretaker is standing over you, looking down with crossed arms. You try to sit up and everything feels so difficult. You feel as though the weight of your body has increased ten-fold and the water, it’s as thick as tar. Sitting up takes so much effort, takes so much time.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” She asks and you look yourself over. Your skin has lines of red marble running through it. You turn your hand over, look at the way it cuts through your skin. “There’s no going back from taking a life.” Your eyes flick up to meet hers, ice cold and blue. “A dark path for sure. Love.” She shakes her head. “Love will be your downfall.”

\--

You jolt awake, look over your hands. Nothing, just cuts. You can feel the forming bruises. Everything aches, everything hurts. You try to sit up but can’t. You look around at the room, its lit by a single candle. Dark grey concrete cinderblocks. A dirt floor. You know this place all too well. You take in a shuddered breath, can’t help the tears. You eventually fall back asleep, drowning in your grief and pain.

\--

You’re not sure when, there’s no light in the room. You just know that the door opens. Tall and broad, taller than Mando but not broader. Sen walks in, sits down on the edge of your bed.

“I brought you water and bone broth.” He smells of his nerfs. Pungent and grotesque. You think it matches his soul. He’s pulling you to sit up and you cry out.

“Let me go!” Your voice is rough. You think you strained your vocal cords, screaming to hold the ship back.

“My little bird, please,” You turn your head away, cringe at his name for you. You hated names. Hated them all. _My Sorceress. My Angel_. You stare at the wall beside you. You wonder if he’s looking for you now. “Just a few sips.” He’s holding out the bowl to your lips. To you, anything he has to offer is poison. You lift a hand and flip it up, spill the hot liquid over him. He jumps up, looks like he’ll lift a hand to you.

“Touch me and I’ll hack your arms off at the shoulders.” You glare up at him and he laughs.

“I’ve got your saber. You think I’d let you keep that?” He’s looking down at you so smug.

“Touch me and I won’t need my saber to tear you apart.” Your glare doesn’t falter. “Trust me. What I can do to you is worse than anything I could with my saber.”

“You’re too weak.” He says and you tilt your head. His mocking causes you to push out, actually bumps him just slightly.

“You want me to try?” You ask and he glares down at you, doesn’t bother to respond. He walks away, door shutting behind him. You’re trembling, absolutely drained from the slight use of the force, but your reaching up to your neck. Somehow you still have Mando’s cloak on. You undo it, shift yourself, body screaming at you while you do it. You pull his cloak close to your chest, bury your head into it.

\--

“Don’t you see? The galaxy brought us back together.” You weren’t sure how long it had been. It felt like days. With no windows and you falling in and out of sleep it was too hard to tell. You were so weak. You hadn’t eaten since being here. You could barely move. You weren’t sure at this point if you refuse to eat because of Sen or because of the immense guilt you felt in the pit of your stomach. It churns and twists, causes you to nearly be sick. You would be, had you anything in your system.

“Leave me alone.” You’d been mulling over the explosion in your head. You’d thought of it a million times. You’d killed to protect those you loved. What does that make you? You pull the cloak to your face again, cry, cry, you’re so tired of tears.

\--

“Where is she?” His voice cuts through your sleep. Your eyes flutter open.

“Mando!” Your voice is so weak. You know he can’t hear you.

“You don’t understand! She’s mine!”

“She’s yours?” His voice is exasperated. There’s the sound of something hard meeting with something soft, something fleshy. “Arrogant piece of shit!”

“I found her! She came back to me! She’s mine.” There’s a lot of shuffling around.

“You can’t own her. No one can.” There’s a strangled sort of noise before a ‘slam!’ and a slumping one. The door to your room bursts open and you’ve already got your arms up. He’s moving quick. You can see your lightsaber on his hip and you feel some relief in seeing it, more so in seeing him. He’s scooping you under your legs and back. You cry out in pain as he lifts you, pressing your head into his shoulder. “I’m sorry, sorceress.” He whispers to you. You’re trembling in his arms and he’s stroking his thumbs over your arm and thigh. “If you ever come for my family again-“

“I don’t have to. She is. The caretaker. I sent a message. She knows you’re here.” He says and you feel Mando’s arm under your back move, leaving you to hold tight around his neck. There’s a flash and then nothing. Your blood runs cold and you look up at him. You know under his helmet he’s stone faced, and you press your head back down into his neck. He puts his gun back in its holster, holds you tightly to him.

“Are you ok?” He asks, knows that it’s a silly question. You only nod your head, arms going weak around his neck. You feel yourself drifting out of it once again.

\----

“How did you find me?” You ask. He’s got you sprawled out on your bed, covers up to your chin.

“I was looking for Sen in the marketplace. I figured he wouldn’t be there, but I was asking around. Eventually, I ran into Trin. She told me where to find you.”

“Trin helped me?” You feel your eyebrows knitting together and Din pulls over a tray. He’s got a meal of broth and bread laid out for you.

“She,” He’s pausing, looking from you to the tray, “She didn’t so much care what happened to you.” He says and you tilt your head, “Her words. Not mine.” He’s picking up a spoon and scooping some broth up. “She wanted Sen dead.” He says and you can’t help but go wide-eyed at the information.

“Why?” You’re shocked and he brings the spoon to you, his other hand held under it in case he spilled. “She loved him!” Mando doesn’t say anything, just stares down at you. Unrequited love. “Oh.” He tilts his head slightly, as if acknowledging that you just got it. He’s nudging the spoon closer to your lips. “I don’t think I can eat.”

“Why?” He’s not angry but genuinely concerned. He places the spoon back in the bowl.

“Mando,” You stop, swallow hard, “Din,” You look him over, “I killed someone.”

“When?” He’s tilting his head down at you.

“The gunship.” Your voice is soft, tears pooling up in your eyes.

“Angel,” He’s laughing and you’re crying. You glare at him, wish you could smack him for laughing at you, “Angel, those were piloted by droids.”

“Droids don’t have feelings?” You ask and he bursts out laughing harder.

“Not the kind that attacked us.” He’s taking in a deep breath. “Those kinds have restraining bolts and get wiped on the daily to keep their programming straight.”

“You’re not just saying that so that I’ll stop crying?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” His voice still has a hint of a laugh to it and you look away from him. “I was able to tap into their communications when I powered on the Razor Crest. You want to hear it? I think I could probably go back into the log and get it.”

“No, I trust you. Do you know who sent them?” You sniffle and he’s reaching out, wiping away your tears.

“I’m still trying to figure that out. I managed to get the data recorder box from the ship you destroyed. I just have to try and get the information from it. Hopefully it’ll give me something.” He says and you nod. You don’t get it so much, you’re not keen on technology but you trust he knows what he’s doing. Meanwhile, you’re relaxing back into the pillows some more.

“God, I was beating myself up so much about,” You trail off and take in a deep breath, look up at Din. You tilt your head at him and he’s tilting his back at you. “How do you do it?” You ask and he’s looking away from you, back at the soup. “Sorry.” You realize you’ve crossed the line.

“It’s not easy. You know that. You know it isn’t easy for me. I’m,” He’s swirling the spoon in the broth, “I’m human. I just do what I have to. I had a time,” He’s scooping up broth again, bringing it to your lips. You gladly eat. The relief that you hadn’t done anything opens up your stomach and you realize just how starved you were. “I wasn’t the best person I could be for some time. I did things I’m not proud of now. I said things I regret about the things I did.” He’s feeding you and you listen. “I called it target practice. I used to feel good when I’d make a difficult kill and the people I was with, they’d cheer me on. I felt like I was special for it. That mercenary crew,” He’s picking up a piece of bread, soaking it in the broth, making it easier for you to eat, “Xi’an,” He takes a deep breath, looks you over, really takes you in. You were worlds away from Xi’an. You were everything she wasn’t, maybe just as strong of a woman, but not dark and twisted. “She, she’d often help me celebrate. I accepted it. It was some of the only intimacy I had. Again,” He’s grabbing up a cloth and wiping over your lips, under your chin, “I’m not proud of it. Now, I just do it because I’m good at it. It’s all I’m good at, so I have to.” He’s feeding you bread again and you continue to listen, you think that’s the best you can do for him. “I’ve tuned it out over time.” He says and you tilt your head, “I was raised, trained, to go into this place beside myself, a place where I don’t think about it. I just do it. It takes a certain kind of being to be a Mandalorian. Not everyone is cut out to take on the creed. I’ve compartmentalized things, it’s how I was raised. I always wanted to help people. I didn’t for a long time. I want to try now. But, back then, I used to take on jobs left and right so that I could think about the next target and not the one that I just marked.” You’ve never heard him talk so much and you wonder what’s changed. You don’t care what happened, you’re just happy that he’s sharing, learning about him. “When I became the kid’s father, I stopped taking bounties. I focused on trying to find his family, focused on being a good father. It’s at night, when I don’t have anything else to focus on. It’s just nighttime. Nighttime,” He’s shaking his head, “I, look for you, at night. Your light. You burn so bright, you cast away my shadows. Your heart, under my ear, a steady rhythm for me. A beacon, for me to follow, it calls me home.” You stare at him.

“That,” You squint your eyes at him, “Sounded like poetry.”

“Uh,” He’s turning away from you, scooping up the tray, “Your soups all gone.”

“Din,” You watch as he stands up, nearly bumping the stand the tray was on, “Do you write poetry?”

“I have to clean up.” He says over his shoulder, you wish you had the strength to get up and pester him. Instead, you just lay there, let your food digest. You look over at the baby. He’s sound asleep. You almost wish he were awake. You wanted to cuddle him up in your arms, wanted to hear his laugh.

\----

You’re not sure how late it is. You only know that the ship has been on autopilot for some time. Mando was hightailing it away from that planet and on to the next. He didn’t want your caretaker to catch up with the two of you. He promised he’d take you somewhere nice. Somewhere relaxing and somewhere the kid could have plenty of friends. The two of you could have some quality time while still getting to see how happy the baby was.

“Can I come in?” He usually asked, never wanted to disturb you and right now he knew how tender you still were.

“Yes,” You shift back some on the bed, give him room to slip in next to you. “bad night?” You ask and he only sighs in response. You try to shift yourself so that he’s more comfortable but as it is the two of you are laying like two sticks side by side. “I can’t sleep either.” You finally say.

“Why not?” With the door closed the room is completely dark. There are no buttons to light anything in the little holding cell he’s made your room. The only button panel was on the outside of it and he had disabled it to make the solid metal door slideable from the inside.

“I need to be read to.” You say and you think he’s tilting his head. “I need a poem read to me.” You can feel the weight on the bed shifting and you reach out for him, grab up his forearm. “Stop! Don’t go.” You whisper, afraid to wake the baby.

“I don’t write poetry.” He’s easing his way back down into the bed and you smile.

“Yes, you do. I can tell you’re lying.” You’re grinning and he’s mumbling something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said, damn sorcery bullshit.” He says and the baby stirs.

“Close his pod if you’re going to be loud.” You say and he reaches over to hit the button, the pod shutting tight.

“Recite me a poem.” You say, shifting your body so that your head is on his shoulder.

“Hold on.” He’s moving away from you, actually taking the kid’s pod with him. He comes back a moment later.

“What did you do with the baby?” You ask and he’s looking out into the hull.

“Put him in my bunk.”

“Why?” You tilt your head up at him, can see his faint silhouette in the doorway of your room.

“Because.” Is all he says, eases back into the bed with you. “Close your eyes.” You do. He’s lifting a hand to press his fingers against your eyes and you laugh.

“Don’t trust me?” You tilt your head.

“Just making sure.” He says and you can see light behind your eyelids, a flashlight, you think, “What poem would you like?” He’s flipping through pages of his little notebook. You like the sound of it, hands over smooth pages.

“One about me.” You say, smirking to yourself. He sighs deeply, wraps his arm around you. He’s being delicate, afraid to cause you more pain. You had refused any medicine to help reduce the pain. You’d never taken anything in your life and you were almost afraid to start now.

“I’ve,” He’s pausing, “I uh, have a few of those.” He says and you nestle your head against his shoulder.

“Pick one.”

“I have one from a year before we saw each other again. I’d,” He’s pausing again, “I’d been sleeping around a bit, but I couldn’t shake you.” His heart is fluttering, you can hear the nervous beat of it.

“Sounds good.” You move a hand to rest next to your head, stroke your thumb over his chest.

“Like lightning flashing through the sky. While fleeting, has left an imprint on my sight. The striking hot arc of it scorches the earth that is my mind. Her curves, her grace, her power. She is a ghost that wonders the halls of my memories. To follow her only leads to empty rooms, tattered and abandoned. I fill those rooms, with flesh and bone. She lingers, flickers like a flame in the back of my mind. I long for a smoke trail, a pathway back. But she is the lightning in the sky. My ghost, my flame.” He says and you sit up, hands feeling out for him. He moves to you and you press a kiss to the corner of his lips. He turns his head and kisses over your lips. You can see the light has turned off. You know it’s safe to open your eyes but you don’t. You pull him in and he’s over you without much thought. You wince through the kiss and he’s pulling away from you. “You’re still too weak.”

“No.” You breathe, try to pull him back to you. He’s shifting away from you, his hand bumping into something.

“What is that?” He’s grabbing at it, pulling it to himself. “Ah.”

“What is it?” You ask and suddenly you hear it. The hilt of the vibroblade. “Oh.”

“Did you know that sex helps with pain and sleep?”

“You know from experience?” You ask and he laughs just slightly.

“Hey, after a hard day,” He says, and you smirk at his comment. “You think you’ll be ok?” He asks and you bite your lip.

“If we take it easy.” You breathe, and he’s over you, propping himself up on his arm as to not press down on you. You close your eyes, feel his lips over yours. You lean up into him, kiss him. It’s tender, slow, he’s restraining himself and you know. You reach up, tangle your fingers in his hair, pull him closer.

“Easy.” He breaks away from you and you’re pulling him back. A lingering kiss that lasts a little too long. The awkward fumble of hands at the hem of your shirt. It’s been a long time. It’s a small wince, he can hear it through your pursed lips, the back of your throat telling on you. He’s being as ginger as he possibly can be, slipping the shirt off your broken form. His hands hesitate over the skin of your sides, you can feel the warmth of his palms nearly come in contact, move away, ease back down. It’s fingertips that press first, so gentle like he’s holding a wounded bird. You reach down, press your hands to the back of his, his palms pressing down over your hips. You hiss slightly and he’s almost pulling away.

“Don’t,” You’re grabbing onto his upper arms, trailing your fingers up and over his shoulders, pulling him close to you.

“You’re so broken.” He’s whispering against your lips and you shake your head, brush your lips over his.

“I need this.” Your fingers are curling into his hair and he leans down, kisses you softly. His hands are roaming over the expanse of your body, long since explored skin. He traces it and your skin prickles under his touch. Rough hands lighting up your skin. You think it feels like stars being born in the night sky, burning hot and bright, just for him. He’s shifting to your neck, all lips and tongue, careful not to inflict any more pain on you. Your weak body trembles as his hands work their way over your breasts, thumbs swirling over the cluster of stars. You’re gasping, his hot tongue, hot breath moving over collar bones and chest, stopping to carefully lick and suck at your breast. You start to wonder if he is a traveler, exploring the galaxy that is your body or if he is its creator, molding, forming your pleasure under his mouth and hands. You sigh softly, hips pressing up, aching for more, pooling hot and molten in your core. He’s pressing you down at your hip so gently, you whimper. It’s a tinge of pain, a tinge of need that causes it. He’s smiling over your stomach, tongue dipping. He wants to lick every part of you, chart out your stars with tongue and hands, study it until it’s perfectly etched into his memory. He’s moving away just slightly, lifting one of your legs under the knee, kisses you slowly up your inner thigh. You’re heaving below him, reaching out to touch yourself. He can hear the shift under him, and he moves your hand away, replaces it with something else. You’re grasping at his wrist as soon as it makes contact, the vibrohilt. You’re pressing his hand down but he’s moving your hand away.

“Relax,” His lips brush over your thigh, you can feel the bristle of the scruff on his cheeks at your thigh and you press your hips up, “Relax.” He’s teasingly rubbing the hilt over you, through the thin fabric of your underwear you can feel the ridges of it. You’re grabbing at the bed sheets.

“Din,” You’re choking out a moan as he bites at your inner thigh. He likes hearing his name like that, all needy, your voice breaking from pleasure.

“Say it again.” He’s pressing the hilt down harder, his lips moving to your pelvic tracks. You feel the soft tickle of his curls over your thighs. His fingers are pulling at the band of your underwear, he’s much more confident now.

“Din.” You make sure you add more infliction on it, moan it out nice and sensual, just for him. He’s biting again, your flesh so supple and soft as his teeth scrape over it. He hums, enjoys your sounds. He’s moving away and suddenly your underwear is gone. He’s back, the hilt edging in between your folds, the cool tip of the pommel running over you. His lips are back at your neck. You spread your legs, body wishing it were him and not the vibrohilt between them, though when he rubs the ridges up and over your clit your body doesn’t seem to mind any. You’re moaning under him, hips rocking up. He’s breathing hot and heavy at your neck. “Stars!” Your arms wrap around him, nails dig into his back.

“Din! I’m…” He’s pulling away from you, lips, body, hilt and all. You’re choking on air, nails clawing down his arms as he leaves you. You’re writhing under him, desperate for your release. “What?” Your head is clouded.

“You’ve got to take it easy.” He says and right now you wish your glare could blow his head off his body. His palm is pressing down over your mound, rubbing soft circles. You take in a shuddered breath, relax back a bit. The pommel of the hilt is teasing at your entrance and if your legs could spread any further, they would. You’re rocking down against it. “You want it?” He asks and you’re nodding only to realize he can’t see that.

“Yes,” You breathe, and he circles it around your entrance, “please.”

“Since you asked nicely.” He’s slowly rocking it in, the vibrations running straight through you. You shiver, head tossing to the side and nuzzling deep into the silk pillow. He’s not just rocking it into you, he’s twisting it between his fingers, twisting and rocking, in and out at a painfully slow pace. He’s licking his thumb, easing it between you, rubs it over your aching bundle of nerves. You’re so desperate and wet he’s quick to realize he didn’t need to lick his thumb. He’s grinning over you. You’re trying desperately to rock your hips down, make him move faster but his fingers are splayed out over your hip, holding you down. “Relax.” He says and you’re whimpering.

“Din, please, please,” You’re begging under him, words becoming unintelligible. He’s snapping the hilt into you, hitting you hard in that perfect spot deep within you. You cry out. He’s working it faster. A Mandalorian is used to using weapons as an extension of their body. Knives, blasters, whatever they can find. They’re a resourceful kind of warrior. Right now, right now, the vibrohilt is nothing more than an extension to him. He’s twisting and thrusting it, with expertise that you weren’t even sure he knew he had. You’re quickly coming apart, hands digging in deep, twisting the bedsheets so hard you thought you could rip them to shreds. “Oh stars! Din!” You can feel the heat within, that crest of the wave. You’d only ever felt this deep under toe with him before, that crash into the void that only he’d given you. Your body tenses and he’s pulling away again. You’re actually crying. Frustration hitting you hard and your hands fly up, grab at him. You’re pulling him down to you, kiss him angry and hungry. Heavy breaths, bruising force, your teeth taking his bottom lip between them. He’s wrapping his arms around you, trying to tame the wild thing he’s created in his arms. You’re pressing down against him, can feel how hard you’ve made him. You’re rocking against him and he’s pulling you back.

“Easy now.” He’s trying to ease you back on the bed, and your body is screaming in pain for the show of extreme exertion you had just done.

“Stop.” You’re growling through your teeth, “Teasing.” You’re grabbing at his shoulders, nails digging into the skin there, “Me.” You take in a deep breath, push him down between your legs. “Asshole.” He’s laughing at you and you want to squeeze his head between your thighs. This man. You weren’t sure how he could make you feel so good and yet want to punch him at the same time.

“Alright, Sorcress.” He’s nuzzling his nose down over your mound, takes his time to breathe you in. He’d missed this so much. The taste of someone. The taste of you. His lips part, runs the tip of his tongue over your slit. You think he’s trying to tease you more but for him, he’s desperately trying to savor it. His tongue slides up through you and he hums, remembers the unique musky flavor that is you. You’re already so close. His constant build up of you has made you tighter than a wire. You’re just about ready to snap. You’ve got your hands in his hair, revel in the softness of his curls. He’s swirling and sucking now and you’re pulling hard on his hair. He’s moaning softly. He’s always liked a hint of pain in his pleasure. You’re gasping, reeling, that heat in your core just about searing it’s so hot. He’s easing the hilt back up to you, working it in you, swirling it in and out in time with his tongue. That under toe is dragging you in, tossing you through the deep dark waters of pleasure. You’re gone, pinned down by the crashing of a wave. You finally reach your climax under Din’s tongue. He’s not stopping and you’re crying out, nearly screaming it feels so good to finally feel release. He’s lifting your legs over his shoulders, tongue pressing harder into you. You’re flailing your legs, your hands tugging hard at his hair. “Din!” You’re gasping in air, and he’s still not stopping. You’re writhing and moaning. You’re completely gone. The pleasure is too much and you think you’ll die there. “DIN!” He’s finally stopping, finally easing you back down onto the bed.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes, licks you up once again and you squirm under him. “I could do that all night.” He mumbles against you and you’re shivering at his words. Slowly, he slips the hilt out from within you and you moan, feel the loss of it. He’s feeling it over in the dark, holds it tight in his fist. “I want to turn this back into a proper weapon.” He says and you laugh.

“Why is that?” You’re trying to regain your breath and he’s moving up to lay next to you.

“You don’t know how powerful I’d feel. Knowing what I’ve done with this hilt, how it caused you pleasure and to have it in my hand, in the heat of battle,” He trails off and you’re laughing. The pain is gone, all of it and you’re actually feeling a little tired. “I won’t take it away from you.” It was much sexier for him to know one of his weapons was now something for your pleasure and not the other way around.

“I appreciate that.” You’ve still got the edge of a laugh to your voice. He’s pulling you in against him, starting to toss a blanket over you but you stop him. “Din,” He’s humming in response, “What about you?”

“What about me?” He asks and you reach down, can still feel how hard he is.

“Go get your helmet.” You say and he’s sitting up.

“What are you going to do? You can’t be doing-”

“It’s not what I’m going to do. It’s what you’re going to do.” You say and you think he’s tilting his head at you. “Go get your helmet.” You say again and he’s crawling out of the bed. “and turn the lights in the hull on when you come back.”

“Yes, Sorceress.” He quips over his shoulder before heading off.

It’s truly a scene to behold. You’re sitting up, propped up against the pillows, knees bent, and legs spread. You’ve got your fingers circling over your clit, the hilt in your other hand. You’ve decided to adopt his technique of twisting it into yourself. His mouth is gaping behind his helmet as he walks back into the room. He’s there in a flash, reaching out for you. Your eyes slowly open, stare at him half lidded.

“No, Din. You don’t get to touch.” You say and his hands are trembling. “You just get to watch.” His breath through the modulator is heavy and shuddered.

“Sorceress.” He pleads and you like the way it sounds. Your eyes shut tight and you gasp, your own fingers picking up pace around your bundle. He’s reaching again and you bring your hand up, bat away at his.

“You can touch yourself.” You say and his hands are already at the waistband of his pants. He’s springing from the confinement of them, his girth smacking against his stomach as he’s freed. Your mouth waters. “You know you’re the biggest I’ve ever had?” You ask and he’s already working his precum down over the thickness of his head.

“Doesn’t surprise me.” He mumbles through his helmet.

“Oh yeah?” The words come out as a moan and you’re arching your back. He groans at the sight.

“Yeah,” He’s drawing in a deep breath, “After being told by multiple people, I kind of started to think maybe they weren’t lying.” He’s hunched over and you tilt your head. He looks a little dry and you reach out and take his hand. You’re moving the hilt away for a second and guide his hand. You can hear him take in a deep breath, but not exhale. You’re pressing his hand against you, help him gather up your slick. You’re pulling his hand away, tap two of his fingers and bring it back to you. He knows what you want and he obliges. His fingers dip down into you, curl up and you’re tossing your head back, moaning. He thinks your showing him so much kindness after all he’d done to you. He thinks that until you’re pulling his hand away, dragging it up through your slick again before you’re pushing it back to him.

“That’s all you get.” You say and he’s finally letting out that breath. His hand is shaking as he brings it back to himself. He’s thankful for the help you’ve given him. His hand glides easily over himself and he tries not to lose it at the thought of you all over him. He’s watching you, watches as you fuck yourself. You’re so damn gorgeous, arching and moaning, head tossing against your pillow. He’s shaking, his own moans spilling out from his mouth. He’s falling forward, looking down at your fingers, at the hilt sinking into you. “Come for me, Din.” He’s looking to the side and you’re shaking your head, “Come on me. My stomach, my chest.” You’re panting, head falling back against the pillow, having been staring down at his cock in his hands. He’s watching you finish yourself off, writhing and moaning from your own doing. Your lips parted, and eyes shut tight, lashes pressing against your cheeks. It’s enough for him. He’s falling forward, helmet pressing down against your forehead. He’s moaning, going ridged over you. His release spreading over your stomach and breasts and you hum in pleasure, enjoy the warmth of it over your skin.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles as he pulls back and you shake your head.

“I wanted it. I like how it feels.” You lay back, remove the hilt and your fingers from yourself. He’s looking over the glossy sheen on the hilt and you hold it out for him. He wants to lick it so badly. “Clean me up?” You ask and he takes the hilt from you, makes his way to the refresher. He’d never tell you, but he takes a second, removes his helmet and licks up the side of the hilt. He loves your taste and it sends shivers through him. He returns moments later, wet warm rag in hand. He starts between your legs, works his way up over your stomach and chest. You’ve gone softer than melted chocolate. You’re liquid beneath his hand and you find yourself starting to drift off.

\--

You don’t know when, just know it’s sometime later. You wake up, underwear and shirt back on. He’s curled up at your side, helmet off. There’s only the very faint glow of the buttons in the hull to light the room. The baby is off to the side, snoring lazily. You circle your arms around Din, pull him close to your damaged body. You breathe in the scent of his curls under your nose.

“Din?” He stirs just slightly. When he finally gets to sleep, he’s out cold. It’s almost impossible to wake him. “I,” You look over at the child, can only see the metal curve of his pod in the faint light, “I’m so happy you found me again.” You say and his fingers curl into the cloth of your sleep shirt. He pulls you closer. You wince, but don’t move away. You fall back asleep happy and peaceful.


	7. Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mando takes the three of you on a nice little vacation before taking you guys to meet an old friend of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a nice fluffy little chapter before we get back into the plot. This chapter is completely written from Mando’s point of view. I originally wrote it in his mind set. (As in I was using I/me/my and referring to Reader as “she/her” ect. I went back through and changed it back to match how I’ve written the rest of the story.) SO! That’s why the way it’s written is a bit different. It’s probably a bit concise because that’s how I imagine Mando thinks. Next chapter will be Reader’s POV again. Also, if there are any grammatical errors or left-over wrong pronouns, I am sorry. I tried reading and rereading and rerereading to make sure there weren’t any but if there are some. I’m sorry.
> 
> ALSO! I was rather inspired by a comic the darling nightlore106 showed me the other day! It’s an adorable little comic of Mando buying a bunch of stuffed animals for The Child by kaylabeemarie (On Tumblr) It’s absolutely adorable and if you haven’t seen it yet, please look her up and take a look at it. There's a chunk of this chapter that's heavily inspired by that comic.

Din’s never seen the child so strong. The child healed you, or, part of you. You were so broken and he helped you. He didn’t pass out at the end. You had told Din that the child’s getting stronger. You’d been teaching him to draw energy from the Force. Din didn’t understand whatever that meant. But he knew the child was a smart kid. Sometimes when you aren’t around Din tries to teach him words. He thinks on occasion the baby’s almost said a few things. He doesn’t try to teach him mom or dad. He can tell you have a strange reaction to those words. Especially the formal Mother and Father. You always cringe, always turns your eyes from him. Instead, Din tries Angel. He wants to surprise you with the baby saying it to you. He thinks it’d make you happy.

Din’s glad the galaxy is so vast. He found a long since forgotten planet. A small population. It’s full of soft pebbled beaches. There’s old stone ruins and the weather. It’s temperate. He thinks the child and you like it. You had told him you’re not much of a swimmer. You’d been once or twice to an ocean, long ago. Before you’d found the planet the two of you had met on. You said you’d almost drowned once in the tide and decided to never go back. You said that while it was scary, you liked the way the ocean drew you in at your feet, around your ankles. Din watches as you stand in the waves. He thinks the sun looks so good on you. He thinks you’re gorgeous.

You’re turning to him, walking up and laying out on one of the blankets. You had to use what you had laying around. A tank top and your underwear. You’re soaked through and he can see everything through the thin fabric. You’re up on your elbows, staring at the ocean. The kid is just to the side of you two, picking up little shells and slipping them into a small cloth bag. You’re flipping your head back, exposing the skin over your collarbones. Din can’t help but look over the way the wet fabric clings to your skin, leaves nothing to the imagination. You slip back to lay down, draw up the hem of the tank to rest just below your breasts.

“I love the feeling of the sun.” You say and he’s trying not to stare, trying and failing.

“You feel it every day.” He says.

“Not when I was growing up.” You say and he wants to reach out, glide his fingers over your skin.

“How is that possible?”

“I was always kept in closed off stone buildings. The windows were overgrown. I’d practice with my lightsaber in a large hall. It was horrible.” You’re shimmying back on the towel. The tiny pebbles weren’t as smooth as sand, but they weren’t the worst. “I love this.” You’re reaching a hand up, reaching for the sun.

“You really can’t tell me what it was all for?”

“I can tell you that I was supposed to have a family, of sorts.” You’re bringing your arm back down.

“I thought you said you were supposed to be celibate.”

“I was. I wasn’t to have a husband.” You say and he doesn’t exactly get it.

“Is that why you helped raise babies?” He’s tilting his head down at you and you shake yours.

“The babies were meant to be more caretakers. I was meant to be another caretaker, after I failed the final test.”

“I don’t get it.” And he doesn’t. You’re reaching out to him, and he takes your hand.

“What I was being raised to be won’t be needed for another few centuries now. The order must continue to ensure there will be someone ready when the time comes.” All he knows now is that someone is needed every few centuries to be ‘the balance’. “Time works differently where I would have gone.”

“I,” He’s trying to understand, mulling it over, “I don’t get your sorcery.”

“It’s ok.” You’re patting his hand, propping yourself back up to look out at the child. “I bet you he’ll give me more shells than you.” You’re smirking at him and he shakes his head.

“I’d like to take that bet.”

“Alright. Winner doesn’t have to clean up dinner.” You’re holding your hand out to him and he shakes it.

“Deal.”

\--

Dinner was a simple meal. Din had set a net and caught a few fish. He deboned them and cooked them up while you made a side of fresh greens and a bright citrus dressing to go over them. You also gathered up fresh fruit and cut them up.

“I got some Mangos. I just got to cut them up.”

“Mandos?” He turns from his spot at the stove and you laugh. He can see you slicing them up, their juice dribbling down your arms, dripping down from your elbows.

“Mangos. These are so ripe.” You’re reaching for a towel to wipe yourself off. He wishes he could lick up the expanse of your arm, kiss the juice from your hands. He turns away, focuses on the fish. “Who do you think he’ll choose tonight?” You ask from behind him and he shrugs.

“He’s been with me the longest.”

“You always say that and yet, it doesn’t matter. He loves me more.” You’re teasing and he’s sliding the fish off from the pan and onto the plates.

“I swear you cheat.” He says, settling down the fish on the two stands. You two had adjusted the way the layout of the kitchen was. The bench was in the middle with two fold out stands on either side. You’d both sit back to back to eat. The child would choose which of you he’d like to eat with. It was something new for him, not eating alone. He’d had the kid, this was true. Din would often feed him and then pass him off to you so he could eat. He thinks most time you waited for him so that the two of you could eat together.

“I do not!” You’re laughing, your voice incredulous.

“Sure,” He thinks you can hear his smirk. He often felt like you can sense exactly what he’s doing under his helmet. He likes it. He likes that you can read him without having to see him. With the tables set and you two settled down it was always the same. You’d turn to the baby in his little pod.

“Come on baby. You want to eat with me!” You say.

“No, you want to eat with me!” He says. Eventually, he turns to Din, makes the grabby hand sign that lets you know who won.

“You got lucky.” You mumble and Din reaches around, lays his open palm out for you at his side. You slip your hand into his.

“I did.” He says and he wonders if you know exactly what he’s trying to say.

\--

After dinner neither of you clean up fully. You simply set the dishes to the side and he slips his helmet back on. The child is in his pod, bag of shells at the ready. You’re looking at Din from the corner of your eye, he can see a smirk spreading across your lips. His heart is fluttering. That knowing kind of smile. You often have it around him. There’s a secret kept behind it and he always wants to ask what it is. The kid is babbling. He’s pulling the shells from the bag, floating them to you. He’s smiling wide as he’s seemingly explaining to you two why he chose each one. He’s making piles, three. One for himself and one for Din, one for you. You’re getting all the bigger shells. Din’s getting the smaller ones. The baby is keeping pebbles for himself.

“Well, I think the bigger shells should count for more.” You say and Din pokes at your pile. “This one is worth at least five of those.” You’re picking one of your own up and pointing at his pile. It’s obvious he has more than you.

“Is that so?”

“Yup! And if we’re counting it that way, well, I’d say I have at least ten more than you.” You say but the child is digging around in the bag, a little grunt emitting from him. He pulls out one last one. It’s small and perfectly round. A sand dollar. He’s looking it over, his little forehead scrunching in thought. Your son, Din knows he’s so smart.

“Din!” He says, tossing it on the table. Din’s mouth falls open behind his helmet and he look over at you. You’re still smiling to yourself.

“You win.” You say, you don’t look at all surprised by the kid’s word and as you get up, you kiss the top of his helmet. “I’ll do the cleaning up.” You say, moving to the baby, you kiss the top of his head too. He’s moved on to trying to balance the pebbles he has on top of each other.

\--

You’re the fastest opponent he’s ever faced. Din knows he’s fast but you’re so agile. He swears you’re predicting his movements before he has the chance to commit to the action. You have him stumbling back with a kick to the chest. Din wonders exactly how you two got here.

-

“I see you practicing your forms all the time. Is it really helpful when you have no one to practice against?” You ask. You’re settled out on the beach again. You’ve gotten used to the tiny pebbles. They were a bit annoying at first but over the course of the last few days they’re not too bad.

“Well, it’s better than nothing. You practice with your saber alone.”

“Hmm…” You’re looking off at the ocean’s horizon. “There are all those castle ruins up there.” You’re turning to look over your shoulder.

“Yeah.” He follows your line of vision, looks over the crumpled stone. You’re picking up the baby. He’d fallen asleep on a towel you’d laid out. He’s been loving the sun. He seemed so much happier with just the three of you.

“I’ll put this guy down for a nap.” You’d bought coms and kept one with the child while he napped. You’d leave the talk switched on so that you could hear him while he slept. One of you would keep the other. “I’ll meet you up there.”

“What are you saying, Sorceress?” He’s watching you walk away, tank top and panties. That’s all you’re wearing again and his eyes are stuck on your form. You don’t answer and with a heavy sigh he gets up and make his way to the ruins.

-

“Don’t go easy on me.” Your voice is coming down a hallway, echoes out into the rather large half crumbled room he’s in. You step out, eyes instantly going to him. He’s settled on some open stairs waiting for you. You’ve still only got what you had on before. Only, you’ve got your harness on your hip, your boots, and the leather arm gauntlets and gloves. You’re adjusting the straps on them now.

“You’re half naked.”

“I don’t need clothes to kick your ass.” You’re summoning your saber to your hand. He doesn’t know what it is about seeing you like this that gets him. Last time he felt this attracted to you was when you were standing blood soaked over Burg’s unconscious body.

“You really going to use that thing?” He’s tilting his head down at you. You’re rolling your shoulders, igniting it.

“Would you prefer I use a stick?” You ask and he rolls his shoulders, mimicking you.

“Would be safer.” He retorts and you give a snicker.

“I’ll heal us both after.” You’re stepping up to him, walking up the steps. You’ve got a sway to you he’s never quite seen before. His eyes fix on your thighs and hips flexing with the movement.

“I’ve got the high ground.” He’s stepping backwards and you only smile. You’re twirling your saber with one hand, striking the stone a bit as you do so. He can see the marks it leaves on the old stone.

“Is that so?” You’re launching yourself, flipping through the air and landing behind him. “Hey there, space cowboy.” He turns and ducks in time for your swing. He grabs your leg, pulls you down. You’re hooking your leg over him, getting him between your thighs, and you roll the two of you off the stairs to the floor below. He takes the brunt of the fall, tosses you off him when you land. You’re flipping back up to a stance and He’s quick to pull his blaster. You’re deflecting all his shots with your saber, making your way to him again. A kick to the chest has him stumbling back. The two of you must be in an old weapons room. He grabs up what looks like a metal club, you’re charging him again. He dodges and swings for the hilt, knocking the damn glowing thing out of your hand. You roll forward, turn just in time to raise a hand and block the club as he brings it down. With your other hand you’re bringing down some of the wall with a grunt, it crumbles towards him. He drops the club, rolls to the side. You’re summoning your saber, igniting it again. He’s shooting again, grazes the side of your wrist. You drop it again, hiss from the pain. You’re launching at him on the floor and he rolls to the side, stands up. He draws his vibroblade and you’re reaching in your boot, pulling your own from your spot on the floor. He can’t help but breathe out a laugh. You’re lunging. He’s dodging. It feels like a dance. Attack, slide, shift, attack, spin, step. He grasps you by the wrist, twists your bodies, pins you against the wall, your throat under his arm. He slams your arm back against the wall, causes your blade to drop out of your hand. You’re gasping. He drops his blade from the arm pinning you down, catches it in the other.

“Give up?” He’s breathless, slips the blade between the two of you, twist it in his hand, careful of the blade. He rubs the hilt over you, through the thin fabric of your underwear. Your lips part, eyes flutter shut. You’re moaning and he grins.

“Oh, Din,” Your legs are opening for him and he just wants to take you there. You’re so fucking gorgeous. Your hands are going up over his shoulders and-

“Krigg!” He hears your damn saber again. He can see the flash of it as you bring it down on his head. He stumbles back. He’s heading up the stairs again, walking backwards. You’re swinging at him and he’s blocking with his gauntlets. Finally, he sees a hole in your attack, reaches out and grabs you by the throat, pulls you close and with his other arm he knocks the damn saber out of your hand and down the stairs. He’s falling back, you going down over top of him. You’re both bracing. You’re over him, straddling his lap, hands on his pauldrens. In the fall he grabbed up his blaster, has it pointed at your head. You two take a second, catch your breaths.

“You win.” You breathe.

“Close your eyes.” He’s sitting up and you do as he says. He’s about to remove his helmet when-

“Can I?” You ask and he sit there a bit stunned.

“Uh,” Your hands on his pauldrens move up, hover over the sides of his helmet, “yes.” Your hands settle on either side and slowly, you lift it off his head. The wind is strong up here, it feels amazing running through his hair. He looks to you, sees how the wind blows around you. He cups your cheek, pulls you in, kisses you. He doesn’t understand this, how his heart is racing. He feels like he could do this for the rest of his life and never get bored of it. You. What is that you make him feel? You’re pulling away and his eyes open, watches as you press your forehead to his. He knows he doesn’t need to check, but he can still see your eyes closed tight.

“I’ve heard,” You’re pulling the helmet close to your stomach, leaning back from him, “when people kiss and their eyes are closed it’s because they’re,” You’re swallowing hard. He wonders how hard it is for you not to open your eyes, “Well, when their eyes are open it’s because they’re not,” You’ve stopped cradling the helmet, turning your head away from him, as if that’d be easier even with eyes closed, to speak, “in love.” You pause and he’s stroking his thumb over your cheek. “When we kiss,” You’re lifting the helmet back up, pressing one more quick peck to his lips before you lower it over his head, “Do you keep your eyes open?” You’re pulling a sharp breath in, “to make sure I don’t open mine?” You add that part rather quickly. Your eyes are fluttering open and he can’t help but laugh just a little. He doesn’t exactly know what you’re asking him. Then, the baby is fussing over the com and you’re hopping off of him, helping him up. You’re summoning your saber and running off before he can even answer.

\--

You seem a bit out of sorts. You’re acting a bit strange. You’re bristling past Din as you walk around the hull. The baby is awake and happily playing with that cloth doll you got him. You’ve fixed it up to look like him in his armor and the child can’t seem to part from it. Din scoops him up. The child looks from Din to you, it almost seems like the cogs in his mind are turning, his forehead scrunches.

“Uh,” Din’s not so sure what to say but you’re cleaning up, wiping down counters and tidying where you sees fit, “I think I’m going to walk over to that little town and see if they have anything.”

“Ok.” You’re not being short so much as it seems like you’re embarrassed maybe? He’s tilting his head, looking you over. When he switches to the heat tracer on his helmet it shows how hot your cheeks are. He wonders if you’re blushing.

“Okay,” He’s slipping into your room, grabbing up the harness and strapping it on so that the kid will be over his chest. Din settles him in.

“You’re taking the baby?”

“Do you want him to stay here?”

“No,” You’ve grabbed a mango from the conservator and are cutting it open, “Have fun.” You’re turning from him again and he takes a deep breath.

He honestly doesn’t know if it’s worth saying anything. He doesn’t exactly know what’s happening. He grabs up his money pouch and heads out.

-

The little town is so charming. People don’t seem to cower from him and he doesn’t know if it’s from the kid being strapped to him or if they’re genuinely accepting. Either way the kid is drawing smiles. There isn’t much that he needs but the kid’s grabbing out for something.

“What is it, little womp rat?” He can see something floating a bit away. “Hey, kid, stop that.” He’s grabbing his outstretched hand, relief settling over him when the thing falls and no one else seems to have noticed. “What?” He’s walking over to it, picks it up to see it’s a blue stuffed frog. It’s floppy like it’s filled with beans or beads. It’s got two button eyes that are just slightly different in size and a big goofy stitched smile across its face. The child’s making grabby hands at it. “Come on kid.” He’s looking up at Din with his big eyes. They almost seem to glisten like he’s about to cry. “You want this thing that bad?” He’s looking back down at it, grabbing at it again. Din sighs deeply and walks over to the merchant to buy the damn thing.

It’s not much longer that he’s grabbing out for something else. Din glances up and sees it’s a light purple frog. He thinks you picked some flowers with the same name once. Lilies? No. Lilac? Either way, they smelled nice. He thinks you said they were a flirty kind of flower. Whatever that means. Something about your sorcery. He doesn’t get it.

“Come on kid. You have one. Do you really need another?” He’s looking down at him, trying to reason through the helmet but the baby just pulls those big eyes on him again. Din half wonders if he’s doing that thing you talked about once. Mind tricks? The baby’s making a soft ‘eh’ sound and grabbing out. “Ok. But how about this one is for our angel?” He asks and the baby tilts his head. “I’d be ok with that. What about you?” The baby’s turning his head away and reaching out again. “Alright.” He groans, once again paying for a silly frog thing.

After that he decides it’s not worth staying in the market if the kid is going to make him spend all his credits on damned stuffed animals. On the way back to the Crest Din tries to get the baby to say ‘angel’ again but he’s too busy cuddling up his blue frog. Din thinks he almost understands that the purple one is for you. Walking up the ramp the kid pushes his blue frog to the side and reaches out for the purple one in Din’s hand. Din’s quick to catch up the blue one and hand the baby the purple one. He thinks maybe he was wrong. Maybe the kid didn’t understand him. That is until he’s holding it out to you. You’re settled at the bench, reading a book over one of the foldable tables. Din clears his throat and you look up.

“Angel!” The baby squeaks out and Din thinks your face perfectly mirrors what his was doing under the mask. Your mouth has dropped open and your eyes going wide.

“Did he-?” You’re looking up at him and he shrugs. You’re hopping up and taking the frog from the little one. “Thank you so much, baby!” You’re kissing over his little head and he’s smiling so wide. You’re nuzzling your head against his and he’s giggling so much. Din feels something. Almost like an ache in his chest, but it’s warm and it feels full. The baby’s clapping his hands as you cuddle the frog to your chest. Is this what happiness is? You’re looking up at Din and he thinks he’s forgotten how to breathe. You’re leaning up and kissing over the cheek of his helmet.

“Thank you, Din.” You’re still looking up at him, smile spread across your face. You slip the baby out from his harness and turn away, wiggling the frog at him. He thinks this is happiness.

“ _I’m jealous of the wind. I wish I could be him, be able to be everywhere, all around her. I want to cradle her with the ease and care in which it surrounds her. To be the air around her. To always and forever be with her._ ”

\--

He hates nights like these. He’s absolutely restless. He’s not anxious. He just can’t sleep. His mind is flooded with a million things. He’s just lying in his bunk, staring up at the ceiling. He’s just about to get up to get a glass of water when he sees you wandering out of your room. You’ve got your scarf wrapped around your eyes. He stares up at you as you come to stand in front of him.

“I can’t sleep.” You say and from this angle he can see just about everything. The flash of the thin white fabric of your underwear, how your night shirt, his old undershirt, barely covers anything. You’ve got the sleeves of it pulled down around your hands, balling them up. Tucked in your arm is the damn frog. You named it Din, annoyingly. Though, he does like the idea of being cuddled up next to your breast as you sleep.

“Grab one of the tables.” He says and you tilt your head. “Just do it.”

“I want you to help me to sleep. Not tell me what to do.”

“Alright. Help yourself.” He hits the button on the side, causes the bunk door to descend. It’s quiet for a while before you’re knocking on the door. He hits the button, stare up at you.

“I got the table,” You sigh, “Now what?” You’re asking and he can’t help but laugh at you.

“Turn around.” He says and you slump your shoulders, do as he says. He reaches out and pulls you back at your hips. You’re squeaking, bending over and grabbing at that table. Din the frog has fallen to the floor with a thump.

“What are-“ You start but he doesn’t let you finish, runs his fingers along the soft white fabric.

“I’m going to help you sleep.” He hooks his fingers over the waistband, “If you’re ok with that.” He pulls you back a bit more, can hear the table legs screech over the metal floor as you drag it with you. You’re right over his mouth now and he can feel your thighs shake around his head. “Sorceress?”

“Yes.” You breathe and he kisses you, hot and open mouthed over the fabric, sucks in a breath of air. You’re moaning over him. “Stars,” He’s pulling your underwear down, moving his head aside and watches as you shimmy them down your legs, kick them away. He likes the way your ass and thighs jiggle. He’s slipping back under you, dragging his tongue up through you. “Din,” He can hear you clawing at the wood of the table, “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

“All day?” He mumbles against you, nuzzles in, sucks in that sweet little bundle. You taste like those mangos you’ve been eating. Sweet and juicy.

“Since our fight.” You whimper. He can feel your knees buckling and he brings a hand to push you up at your hip. “With the damn hilt. You fucking per-!“ He’s circling your entrance with his fingertip and you’re gasping in a moan, “per-!“ he dips his finger in, curls it up, rubs a soft circle where you want it the most, “Pervert!” You’re so damn tight. He half wonders if you heal yourself after each time. He has to know. He pulls away from you, enjoys the wet sound of you against his mouth. He replaces his mouth with his thumb.

“Do you heal?” He turns his head, bites over your thigh, “after each time?” You’re not answering, only moaning over him. He thrusts his fingers in again, curls up nice and hard against that spot. “Sorceress?”

“Yes! Oh stars! Din!” You’re leaking down your thighs and he watches in the soft glow as his fingers fuck you.

“No wonder you’re so damn tight.”

“Not after you.” You mumble. You’ve got your head buried in your arm.

“What’s that?”

“I didn’t heal after you. Just, everyone else.” He bites at your thigh again, licking up your juices. You’re moaning, knees going weak again. “Faster Din, please. Oh please. Use your mouth.”

“Why not me?” He rubs his thumb down harder against you, but his fingers have stopped and you’re squirming.

“Wanted to feel you.” You’re humming, swallowing hard, “Stars, for years, I’d fuck myself, think of you. Only wanted you. Wanted to think of how you filled me up. Wanted to keep it that way. Just you. Only you.”

“Krigg.” He’s back on you again, tongue and fingers. He wants to fuck you good. He wants to show you all the things he couldn’t back then. When you were fragile and innocent under him. Now you’re wild and free, grinding down against his mouth and fingers. You’re calling out his name, and he’s taking hard shallow breaths between your thighs, drinking you down like you’re the fucking nectar of life. He thinks you are. All sweet and thick. You’re shuddering over him and he knows. You’re coming undone. You’re bucking against his mouth and he can feel you flutter around his fingers. He wishes he could feel it around his cock. You’ve finished and your legs give out. He moves away in time for your knees to slam against the floor. He’s wiping at his face, licking over his fingers. Watches as you’re slumped against that table, shoulders heaving. He adjusts himself through the blanket, painfully hard at the sight of you. It takes you a moment. You stand and walk off to the refresher, come back a second later. You feel out for him, scarf still over your eyes. He grabs at your wrists and brings your hands to cup his face. You lean down and kiss him, upside down, your nose pressing into his chin. You laugh.

“Thank you. I think I can finally sleep.” You’re sprawling out, hand reaching down. He jolts as you grab him. He’s still harder than a rock and you’re humming, rubbing at him through the blanket. “Would you like to be woken up by a surprise?”

“What kind of surprise?” He murmurs. Your breasts are right next to his mouth and he takes one in through the fabric of your shirt. You moan as he sucks softly, tongue flicking out. You’re grabbing his length.

“That kind.” You say and he nods, keeps sucking, tongue swirling, and you’re shivering.

“Yes, please.” He drops his head back and you’re standing up.

“Alright. Good night.” You’re walking away from him and all he can do is groan. He’s reaching out for his journal, sitting up in the damn bunk.

_“She’s a complete brat. I don’t understand what she wants from me half the time. Sometimes she wants me to give her the whole damn galaxy. Other times she acts like she doesn’t even need me. I’m trying my best here. I get that in her past life all her meals were cooked, and all her clothes were laid out and every day she had things planned out for her. I’m trying my best. I want to give her all I can. I know I’m not enough but krigg, I’m tr”_

“Din,” he glances up, sees you’re in the doorway of your and the kid’s room, blindfold still on, “Aren’t you coming to bed?”

That was the last night it was _your_ room.

\--

So, fucking soft and hot. He groans. Stars, feels better than anything he’s had in years. This dream, it’s a damn fucking good one. It feels so damn real.

“Krigg that’s good.” Hot and wet over his length. His eyes flutter open and you have your mouth over him, hand at the base pumping. You’ve got a blindfold on and there’s light coming in through a crack in the hull door. Fresh ocean air is pouring in and he takes in a deep breath. You’re working nice and slow, your other hand moving down to cup at his balls. He drops his head back against the pillow, watches through half lidded eyes as you work over him. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve such luck. You, here working over him, sucking and swirling, both hands moving with expertise. You’re moaning over him, and he’s grabbing at the bedsheets. “Sorc-“ You’re working harder and harder and before he knows it he’s going ridged under you. That spark flashing out in the pit of his stomach, creating flames through his body. You’re swallowing every last drop and his mouth drops open, takes in a deep breath. You’re not stopping, payback for all the times he doesn’t. The pleasure is too intense. He’s trying to buck you off but you’ve got a hand pressing to his stomach. He’s groaning and finally you pull off of him with a Pop! You’re wiping at the corners of your mouth, smiling so satisfied down at him.

“You want pancakes for breakfast?” You’re slipping off the bed and he just stares up at you, tries to catch his breath.

“Please.” He reaches out for you, pulls you down by your wrists and kisses you. He doesn’t fucking care about tasting himself. He needs you and when you kiss him back, he thinks you need him too.

“Like pancakes that much?” You ask as you slip away and out of the room.

“Angel!” The kid is cooing at you.

“Good morning, Baby! Wanna help make pancakes for Din?” You ask and Din can hear him cooing with excitement.

“Din!” He’s giggling and you’re laughing.

“Ok, Baby. Let me clean up first then we’ll make pancakes.” Din only wonders how he got this lucky.

_“She’s a complete brat. ~~I don’t understand what she wants from me half the time. Sometimes she wants me to give her the whole damn galaxy. Other times she acts like she doesn’t even need me. I’m trying my best here. I get that in her past life all her meals were cooked, and all her clothes were laid out and every day she had things planned out for her. I’m trying my best. I want to give her all I can. I know I’m not enough but krigg, I’m tr~~ She’s also a goddess and I don’t deserve her.”_

\--

It’s a little while after breakfast. You and the baby are out in a grassy patch by the waves. You’re teaching him the importance of meditation. He gets so fidgety but you’re trying to teach him to feel the force within and around him. He’s gotten better with it, despite being a baby. You have a lot of patience. It’s not the easiest thing to train a child but he’s seated across from you, eyes closed, seemingly focused. Din is staring out at the two of you, leaned up against the side of the ship. He can see a smile spread across your face.

“I can feel you staring at us, Din.” He pushes off the frame and he’s about to turn away when you hold a hand out to him. “Come here.” He hesitates but slowly makes his way over to you. He slips his hand into yours and you’re tugging him down. “Here,” You’re guiding him. You have him so that you’re between his legs, your back to his chest. You place his hands, palms up over your knees. You set your hands down in the palms of his. “Close your eyes.” You whisper and he does. He sits up straight to match your posture. “Do you feel that?” You whisper. “Me and the baby?” You ask but he doesn’t. He presses his helmet to the back of your neck, shakes his head. You flip your hands over, slip your fingers between his. “I feel you. I feel him.” You’re stroking your thumbs over the fleshy part under his pinkies. “We’re one big circle. The three of us, connected,” You take a breath, “One.” Your voice nearly cracks on the word. You lift one of his hands, kiss over the back of it before setting it back down. The three of you sit there and meditate as one.


	8. Part Six 1/2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mando asks you a question and you accept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I’m not going to be able to get out a real chapter today like I had hoped, I wrote this little fluff piece (Drabble I guess?) that was going to be part of the chapter but it just doesn’t vibe with the rest of the tone of the chapter. So I’m releasing it separately. Also, because I feel horrible that I couldn’t get a real part out in time. I don’t want to say what happens in it. I think some people will understand the implications of what this entails. Reader /definitely/ doesn’t. The idea for this was given to me by an Anon (on tumblr) as well. So, thank you Anon! You gave me such a very interesting plot point to work with. Also, sorry if it’s not the greatest. (If you follow me on Tumblr you might know I've fallen into a depression) And I’m still in a bit of a low place. Thank you for everyone understanding that I needed some time to myself!

On the last morning you got up early. Early enough to catch the sunrise. You climb up to the old ruins, settle yourself on the top of some broken stairs and look off at the horizon, just over the ocean. The child is settled in your arms, still snoozing. You adore the way his little lip rises and falls with each snore he emits. Din is beside you, heart nearly bursting at the sight of the two of you. With the sweeping wind you shiver, and he doesn’t hesitate to pull you close, share his cloak.

You watch in near perfect silence. There was something about the rising of the sun that rendered all language impossible. The world is painted in soft purples and pinks, the burn of orange just on the crest of the water. Clouds looking like candy and you look to Din, watch it all reflect off his helmet. You’d never seen him in so many colors and it causes you to smile.

“What?” He sounds breathless when he tilts his head down to you.

“You’re pink.” You say and he tilts his head more. You don’t explain further, just look back at the sunset, try to settle your head down where there isn’t much beskar to poke you. He can smell your shampoo from your place between his chest plate and pauldren. He breathes it in deep and he hopes you can’t hear it. The sun looks like a hot ember, passing through the sky. You’re impressed with how fast it moves and when it finally gets too bright to stare at you lift your head. “We should start heading out, right?”

“Yeah, there’s,” He’s standing up, helping you up, “just one thing.” He’s walking down the stairs first. They let out into a room filled with stained glass windows. Some of them are a bit busted but with the light of the new sun shining through them, they’re still gorgeous. A kaleidoscope of colors wash over the floor.

“What’s that?” You ask, watch as on the way down he digs around on his utility belt.

“I wanted to ask you,” He’s dropped something, it clings against the ground, “Kriff!” He’s cursing under his breath, getting down, and looking around for it. You stay where you are on the stairs, glance around on the floor. Suddenly, you see something that you think might be it. You levitate it to yourself, turn it over in your hand.

“Din.” You say his name so soft you’re not sure he’ll hear, but he lifts his head. There in your hand is a brooch. It’s smooth shiny silver in the shape of a mudhorn’s head. It’s identical to the sigil on his pauldren. The only difference is that there’s a tiny stone in its eye. It’s hard to make it out but it looks like a soft peach color with flex of coppery metal. You settle it down on the baby’s stomach, who barely stirs, and reach out to him. You lift him up, fingertips placed just under his helmet. He knows you’re not trying to take his helmet off and he rises with your hand.

“I just, I wanted to ask you,” He says. You’re eye level with him, a few steps up. He’s taking your hand, walking you closer to the windows. You follow, watch as the two of you become shrouded in colors, “Do you want to be part of my clan?”

“Yes.” You say and he turns to you, places his other hand on your shoulder. He looks down to the snoozing child. You think Din’s smiling before he looks back up to you.

“Do you promise to help me raise the child as a Mandalorian when the time comes?”

“Yes.”

“And any other foundlings or otherwise that we may come across?” He asks and you laugh just slightly.

“Yes.” You say after taking a deep breath. He’s bringing a hand up to your cheek, stroking over it with his thumb.

“Repeat after me.” He says and you nod. “No matter the distance, we are one. Whatever we own, we share as one. We will raise our children as warriors.” You can’t help but want to laugh. Mandalorian custom was a bit strange to you but you repeat the words to him. It seems rather important that all clan members help raise the younglings as Mandalorians. You suppose it was only because there were so few of them. He’s reaching for the brooch, taking it up off the child and pinning it to your chest. “Close your eyes.” You do and he lifts his helmet, kisses you softly. You’re reaching up with your free hand, slipping your fingers into his hair. The kiss is almost chaste, soft, only deepening just slightly. He’s pulling away from you when the baby stirs.

“Din!” He coos and you keep your eyes closed but you’re certain that the child has just seen Din for the first time without his helmet.

“Hey there womp rat.” His voice is trembling, and you start to turn away but he’s squeezing your arm gently. “It’s ok.” He breathes and you feel him lean down, hear a small kiss being placed and the child giggling. After a second he’s pulling back. “You’re ok now.” He says and you open your eyes, greeted with beskar. He’s offering you his arm and you slip your hand into it, walk with him out of the ruins. The baby is playing with your brooch tilting his head at his reflection in it. The three of you make your way back to your home, ready to go on to the next place.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross Posted on Tumblr under cucumber-mccool


End file.
